All My Broken Hopes and Dreams
by CelticGames4
Summary: Everybody knows life through the eyes of Katniss, but what is the true way of life for those in the Districts? Starving, poor, dirty, broken-down... Her dream may have come true, but many other dreams have been smashed.
1. Sylvester, District 12

**All My Broken Hopes and Dreams**

**PART ONE: Sylvester Stallosky, District 12**

First thing's first. Not all 12 people can hunt in the woods.

I'd never be caught back there. I don't even have a weapon.

So, Everdeen and her little cousin or whatever can wave around their dead animals, but it does absolutely nothing for us.

So, when I turned 12, I went to work.

I think now's the time that I should introduce my family.

My father died in a mine explosion a while back. My mom put the medal of honor in a drawer and never picked it up again. Never even looked at it.

My little sister Caroline is just a year younger than I am. She never associates with me in any way, and when bullies give me trouble, she's usually cheering them on. I don't really blame her, though.

My mother fights for us every day. She never once said it out loud, but I figured out that she sold herself for us.

Last of all is my other sister, Willow.

We were born in the same year, but we're not twins. She was in November, I was in January.

Willow has almost-orange golden hair, and pale blue eyes. Her smile is beautiful, even though there's a slight gap between her two front teeth. She has a pretty round face, even though it's pale. Her hair is often tied around her head in braids, and I like it that way a lot.

For being very poor like we are, my sister is beautiful. She's friends with everyone, I swear.

Now, the thing about Willow is that she is not only kind, but respectful. She cares about me, but respects me. She may not understand me, but she respects my preferences. Of course she wants me to smile, but she doesn't constantly bug me to be happy. I'm sure she wants me to go back to school, too, but she respects my decision to drop out. Kindness is one thing, but it's the best feeling in the world to be respected.

Now, that being said, I love my whole family equally, and I would die for any one of them. One day in my life I'll never forget is the day I decided to go into work.

When I told my mom she hugged me and cried for me not to do it. The thing I remember most is looking into her pale blue eyes and whispering, "I'm not letting you sell yourself anymore."

Now, some things to point out here are the fact that my mother had no idea I even had a clue about what sex was. She never said a single word about selling herself. She told us she was a lowly seamstress. She never thought I'd figure it out, and she never dreamed I'd be able to say it out loud.

You can imagine the look on her face when her 12-year-old son who's barely ever said a word in his life pointed out the face that she's been forced into prostitution.

She turned paler than I think I've ever seen anyone in my life.

"Mom-"

"You can't."

"I am."

"You won't."

"I will."

"Sylvester-"

"I love you more than anything else in this world-"

"But-"

I looked into her eyes.

Another thing to point out here.

I've don't look at my reflection that often, but according to Willow, my eyes are a deep, lunar yellow color, like my father's used to be.

Definitely not a Seam color, or even a District 12 color by any stretch of the imagination, and I have no idea how the hell he had them, or why I have them.

Nice to know that, even if I've stupid and socially awkward, that I have nice eyes.

Well, I hate them, and I hate my crooked smile, too. Last time I smiled… Well… Can't think of it.

Anyways, I looked into her pale blue eyes and the immediately filled with tears.

"God, Sylvester, you look like your father."

I sigh, and I hug my mom and kiss her on the cheek, "I'll be fine. I promise."

She dries her eyes, "I'll tell the girls."

Willow hugs me and cries, "Sylvester, you can't do this!"

I'm sick of this.

"Well, I am."

"What about playing games?"

"I outgrew it a while ago."

"What about school?" Willow asks, and I swallow hard.

I've never been good with numbers and letters, and I still carry secrets with me that nobody should ever know.

Ok, fine, I'll tryst you.

Oh, dear lord…

I can't read.

Or write.

Or count.

Or add, subtract, multiply or divide!

I can't say my ADC's and I can't count anywhere above one.

I can't pay attention, and, when I try, my eyes can't focus on the text. I end up slamming whatever I'm trying to work on, throwing down and stomping away, with a terrible headache and a feeling of frustration.

There you go. But, that's not exactly my life story yet….

Ok, so, there's someone I haven't exactly told you about yet. A lot of someones.

A group of someones, and that'd be the school bullies.

And they're lead by Summer Parkleyson.

I mean, I don't blame them.

They're right. I'm a creep and a ghost.

I never talk to anyone- ever- and I can't read or write… I have no talents at all.

I'm scrawny and pale, and, since I never smile or laugh, my smile is crooked and my laugh sounds like I'm being strangled.

My eyes would be wonderful, if they were on anyone else.

On me, they just look out of place, some magnificent eyes on a not-so magnificent boy.

I hate my eyes… Why can't they just be ugly eyes and match the rest of me? Why can't they be gray Seam eyes that nobody cares about?

I stare at the ground, not wanting people to look at them.

Anyways… where was I?

Oh, God… Not this…

In the group of bullies, there's a quiet boy my age.

His real name is Christian Twinkler, but everyone calls him Twink.

Twink is in my year, and he's smart.

And… I think I kind of like him.

If you're wondering, yes, this is my awkward way of "coming out of the closet," as they say.

Twink never cheers the bullies on.

He never even looks my way. He's not mean to me, but he's not nice to me, either.

Do I think I have a chance in the world with someone like him? Of course not, why would I?

This is one thing I haven't told anyone, and it's gonna stay that way.

I don't want to say I have a crush on Twink, that's way too risky. As soon as you declare it a crush, someone finds out, and it goes throughout the school.

And, even though I don't go to school anymore, the bullies still pick on me, and I am afraid of Twink's punch.

This is a secret that nobody will ever find out, and I'll protect it with my life…

**FATE:**

_Sylvester eventually dies of hunger at age 18, and his sister Willow marries Twink. Though Caroline and Willow are young, they manage to survive through the revolution and be happy on their own. Though Caroline forgets about her brother, Willow never forgets him and his legacy. Sylvester is buried wearing the Medal of Honor for his father._


	2. Geno, District 3

**PART TWO: Geno Haggerman, District 3**

Stereotype: EVERYBODY FROM DISTRICT 3 IS A GENIUS.

Guess what? We're not!

Sure, Beetee is brilliant, he's one of those upper class kind of people who can afford to mess with shiny objects.

But, guess what? Most everyone else in this District is in POVERTY.

Yeah, yeah, I get it. District 3 is the technology District, we make all the gizmos and stuff.

We PRODUCE them. We don't INVENT them, and that's where everybody seems to go wrong.

If there's a genius, everybody just automatically assumes they're from District 3, but that's not true all the time.

In fact, I'm just about the farthest from a genius you can get, and I'm from 3. And, guess what? That's perfectly normal here.

To the other Districts, 3 is just supposed to know everything, but we don't. We don't build robots… Well, not all of us do.

My good friend Francesca Cooper built robots all the time, but she was one of those upper class girls who had a lot of money to spend.

Also, something ELSE: Just because we're closer to the Capitol doesn't mean we get any special attention.

District 3 is still just as poor as anything else. Come on, people. We have all these factories that puff out smoke. The smoke fills your lungs and makes you wheeze. And being in those factories is worse.

I know everybody says that the smaller your number is, the richer your District, but I highly doubt that. We have next to nothing. Our factories are unsafe and we don't even have a big-screen to watch the Games with. The people in the slums all use this super-duper old crank TV, and take turns cranking it.

STEREOTYPE: All people in three wear glasses.

Freddy did, and so does Mason, but other than that, not a lot of people actually wear glasses. The smoke just fogs them up, anyways.

I mean, the glasses do help in the constant smoke when you're working, but those are goggles and we only ever wear them when we're inside.

Another thing about District Three is that we're not a very loving place. In fact, it seems everybody's always in some kind of competition. My best friend Theo Campbell is a really good example of that. He was brought up to be extremely competitive with EVERYONE.

District Three is INCREDIBLY divided based on a popularity scale. You never know what kind of people you'll find in Three, we're just a mixing pot of all different kinds of people.

On one end, you have Nathalia, a snooty, rich girl who is always laughing at some poor boys, and on the other, you have Francesca, who always had something nice to say to the slum kids.

On one end, you have Brad, the handsome and clean-cut military percussionist, and, on the other, you have little Tanner Cooper, who's only ten but rebellious and loud.

The people you'll find here are especially interesting.

STEREOTYPE: District 11 is the only District that ever uses music anymore.

I know some great musicians that live right here in Three. Do you really think we just grunt as we work? It's much more entertaining to sing a little song, even if you're the only one humming.

Theo's never had to work a day in his life, and is one of the most brilliant musicians I've ever heard.

Then you have Mason, who has a natural talent and can almost outplay Theo with no practice at all.

The schools here at 3 have a great music program, and it's one of the most competitive fields out there.

Me? Well… I don't play music that often.

STEREOTYPE: District 3 citizens all have gray eyes.

Some of us do. I know Brad does, and so does his little sister, Mallory, but that's really all I can think of.

Me? I have navy eyes. Francesca had bright blue eyes, and her brother still has those eyes today.

Nathalia's eyes are a very vibrant green, and Theo's are green, too.

What else?

STEREOTYPE: Everyone in Three hates the Capitol.

Ok, I know Nathalia and Theo probably don't count, but I do know a fairly large group of people who like the District system, and who support Peacekeepers in our district.

They believe that the Hunger Games serves us right, because the Districts were ignorant in attacking the Capitol. If you ask any one of them, they'll steal away about thirty minutes of your time telling you about it.

Something ELSE: People call me Clockwork because I look young.

I wish.

They call me Clockwork because I can't read a clock.

I'm dyslexic and they all know it, we all know it, and yet they still tease me.

It's just so confusing… Figuring out which way is clockwise and which way isn't.

At least Theo has the good grace to call me by my name.

Trying to use gears as an example that my brain works differently than theirs does: BAD IDEA.

STEREOTYPE: The fact that you're dyslexic makes you stupid.

I like to think I'm not an idiot. I'm certainly smarter than some; I just have trouble with writing it all down.

And reading everything.

And, yes, that part truly sucks, but if you ever had a conversation with me, you'd find that I'm actually fairly competent. You'd never be able to guess I'm dyslexic unless I came right out and told you so.

I'm still working on that part… It's no big deal, I guess…

I hate that people call me stupid.

They call me Clockwork because I'm stupid.

"_You should be able to read a clock, Geno. It's simple!"_

And maybe it is simple for you.

**FATE**

_Geno goes on to win the 73__rd__ Hunger Games, disproving all stereotypes about his District, and himself. Once he got home, the nickname Clockwork became more of a joke to Geno than an insult, and he and Theo laugh about it together. After the 81__st__ Hunger Games, Geno goes on to provide a big help to the technology of the third revolution, and once it's over, he marries a Capolite named Santana, and they live happily forever after in his old home at 3, right next door to his best friend Theo. _


	3. Tenor, District 3 (Post Revolution)

_**Sorry Cam… *crouches in the bomb shelter***_

**PART THREE: Tenor Campbell, Post-Revolution District 3**

My name is Tenor Campbell.

I'm all alone.

I look out my window one clear night and recognize the Perseus Constellation.

Perseus is lucky. He's a hero, he gets the girl, all the bullies in his life are turned to stone, for Zeus's sake!

I want to be a hero. I wish I could be a hero.

And I could be a hero… If I was just happy.

I'm not happy. Not one bit.

My name is Tenor Campbell.

I've had enough.

I've had enough of the bullies, enough of the tears, enough of the broken relationships, enough of the making myself get up in the morning.

I've had enough of it, OK? And, frankly, I want out.

We all know there's only one way for that to happen.

I take a gun on my way out. My Dad, a revolutionary hero, sometimes uses it to go out hunting with his friends. Both of my parents are revolutionary heroes. Theo Campbell, and Athena Campbell. They're both Veterans, too.

That's not important, though… In fact I think it makes me even more of a target to the bullies.

I run out the door, wondering where I could die that nobody would find me. Not like they'd care, anyways.

I find an alley right off of main street that's abandoned and so dark I can barely see anyways.

In the darkness, my life flashes before my eyes.

_No hero has ever killed himself._

Then again, I'm not a hero. Not even close. I drop the gun, my hands are shaking so bad.

I can barely make myself hold on to it.

I suddenly see the real reality of it all. I'm trying to take my own life.

I've stopped fighting the tears by now, and I can feel my whole body pumping adrenaline.

My heart beats so hard and so loud that it's all I can feel, all I can hear.

My heart beats fast, and I start to hyperventilate.

"OhGodohGodohGodohGod…"

I cry out, clutching the gun so hard my hand becomes numb.

"I've had… Enough…" I whisper through tears.

I clench my teeth, taking deep breaths. In, and out; in and shakily out.

The harder I bite my cheek, the more it bleeds, and the worse I feel.

I'm gonna pass out.

_No. You can't. _

_I can't stand to fail at this. I may've failed at everything else in my damn life, but I can't fail this._

I've had enough of failure.

I'm not a coward. I'm going to do this.

But, where should I shoot myself?

The head? Oh, no, I'm not that brave.

The chest seems like a better place.

_And plus… I'm going to SUFFER._

I've taken (and lived through) WAY too many bullets to the heart already: physically, _bullies, _psychologically, _I've been having these thoughts that just won't go away… _and emotionally, _I've ruined my relations with everyone I care about._

And maybe I should've said something.

Maybe I should've told someone.

Whatever I should've done, it's too late for me to do it now. It's too late for me to do anything now.

I bite my cheeks so hard I have to spit out blood on the ground.

Dry tears stick to my cheeks and new ones replace them as I pull the trigger.

I give myself one last breath of air.

It's shallow and shaky with tears.

My heart pounds in my chest and ears, my sight is blurred.

3…..

2…..

1…..

And then I shoot.

I slump to the ground and clutch my bleeding chest.

I change my mind… I don't want to die yet…

I let out a weak scream, not sure whether I really want to be saved or not.

I hear loud footsteps, and soon feel strong arms wrap around me and pick me up.

"Theo!" Tanner's voice booms in my head.

Tanner puts me into my father's arms. Today, though, he shakes violently, like a scared puppy.

"T-T-Tenor…"

He suddenly takes off running with me in his arms, and I hear my sister Siren call after him, with tears in her voice "DAD! Wait!"

But he doesn't intend on stopping anytime soon.

I hear her last cry fly by in the wind, "WE ALL LOVE YOU, TENOR!"

And I curl up into my father's chest, and I do believe I die there, too.

**FATE**

_Tenor never realizes how much his family loved him. He never knew how much everybody in his life truly cared about him, and, even if he had known, he would've accused them all of lying. What everybody had overlooked in Tenor's life is that not all famous children are perfect, and they should never try to force it. If only they had had the thought that poor, 17-year-old Tenor could be clinically depressed… But, with the own gun that Theo Campbell had used to murder the Peacekeepers at war, Tenor took his own life._


	4. Rizzo, District 9

**PART FOUR: Rizzo Theramin, District 9**

I hate this place.

I truly and passionately hate this place. Why? Because it's frickin' District 9.

District _9._

Doyou even understand what it's like there? Of course you don't, because nobody really cares about District 9. I sure don't.

Talk about a lack of District pride. Well, everyone lacks it here.

And my Dad has this crazy fantasy that his only child is going to go into the Arena and win pride for District 9. He says that if we think like District 1, we'll be treated like District 1. Needless to say, my father is a whackjob.

My Mom would say something, but he beats her, too. Constantly.

Every time he does, I ask her, "Can I report him now?"

And she'd always shake her head and say, "Next time, I promise."

Next time was never good enough for me, nor should it ever be.

It will never be good enough for me.

My Mom is a petite woman, but I'm a big guy, just like my nutjob of a father. I want to stand up to him but every time I try, my mom always shakes her head and gives me a look of disapproval.

I'm going to, though. He abuses me just as much as he does my mother. One of these days, I'm going to punch the man in the face and then maybe he'll accidentally fall in a grain mill. Just accidentally.

Anyways, I've had trouble sleeping at night lately. And it's in my bedroom, lying awake at night, that I come up with my best scheme yet.

I'm going to run away. Not from my home, from my District. Maybe even from this country, if I can.

Where I'll go, I don't know. Who I'll take, well, that one's obvious. We'll get out of here together.

The next day goes as normal: get up, get dressed, go to school for 2 hours. Go home, throw down all of my stuff and go right back to work in the fields.

Now, one thing that sucks about having dark hair is that the dark absorbs sunlight. So, it constantly feels like my head's on fire. My Mom gave me her straw hat to use, and it helps, and it keeps the sun out of my eyes as I pick grain. Ugh. This sucks.

Turn in my grain, get basically nothing, walk back home and collapse on a kitchen chair.

"How was your day, Rizzo?" Mom asks, kissing my cheek, "You're hot!"

"I'm obviously hot. I was working all afternoon."

"Oh, honey…"

"Where is he?"

"Your father went out."

We all know what that means. He's coming home drunk.

"Mom."

"Yeah, hun?"

"We're going."

"What?"

"You and I, we're running away, we're getting out of here!"

"Rizzo, you can't!"

"MOM! I'm going, and you're coming, too."

She frowns at me, "Honey, we're safe here."

"No, we're not! Don't you dare say that we are, because we're not!"

"We have food-"

"No we don't! _He _has food! We don't!"

The lights shut out just about then.

"Rizzo-"

"Thanks a lot, Dad. So much for any source of power."

I see a slight flame as my mom lights a candle, "Rizzo. I love you more than anything else in my life, you know that."

I sigh, "And so do I. That's why we're getting out of here before he comes back. He'll be so drunk he'll set the house on fire looking for us!"

My Mom shakes her head, "No. We're safe here."

I blink a frustrated tear out of my eye, "I'm not going into the Arena."

"He can't make you."

"If I don't he'll kill me!" my voice cracks. Damn it.

"He won't kill you, Rizzo."

"WHY THE FUCK DO YOU STILL HAVE FAITH IN THAT MAN?" I yell at her, "HE'S DONE EVERYTHING TO YOU!"

She blinks a tear out of her eye, "Rizzo-"

"You're pregnant, aren't you?"

"W-w-what?"

She didn't deny it. It's true. My whole body shakes and I don't know what to do. "Why didn't you tell me?" I cry. She doesn't answer me.

"**WHY** didn't you tell me?" I'm ashamed, angry, upset, and hurt.

"Because Rizzo- I didn't-"

"You didn't want it, did you? That means-"

"Rizzo!" she cries, "Wait-"

"He… He-"

"Rizzo, think about this."

"I AM THINKING ABOUT IT! HE FUCKING RAPED YOU, MOM!"

She buries her head in her knees.

The next part, well, that's what kicked me in the face.

"That's what happened for me, too."

"Riz-"

"That's what happened for me."

She's crying so hard she can barely talk.

"Thanks for bothering to tell your rape baby where he came from!"

She sobs some more.

"I thought you loved me."

"I do! Rizzo, I do!"

"When?"

"Hm?" she squeaks.

"WHEN? When were you gonna tell me?"

She just squeaks again. I know what that means.

Never.

"I can't-I can't believe you!"

"Please-"

"I'm going. I can't live here anymore."

"Rizzo!"

I run out the door, holding back tears and slamming the door behind me. I run into my father, and we both hit the ground hard.

"Where do you think you're going, runt?"

"Nowhere. Not without this." And I slug my father across the face.

"YOU INFERNAL BRAT!" he shouts after me.

I kick him where it hurts when I realize what I've done. I take off running, and hear a shot behind me. My foot burns with a searing pain as I run through the grain. I make it, too. I make it to the fence and crawl under it. The barbs tear off the back of my shirt, but I don't stop.

I hear multiple other gunshots, and never want to know what they take with them.

I crash in the woods and let out all of the cries I've held back. About everything.

Stupid District 9… I hate it. Where I'm going, well, I don't know. I'm going somewhere.

I walk all night, and collapse in a bush at dawn.

I jolt awake to the sound of revving motors. A giant hovercraft.

I collapse in the bushes and hide. I hold my breath. 'Please, please, please…'

Lucky for me, it flies right over my head.

I sit up and sigh.

Then I see another figure move in the bushes.

And I'm suddenly face-to-face with another boy.

**FATE**

_Rizzo and the other boy (who will be added in later) make it to District 13 together, both on the brink of death. Rizzo takes the position of commander for the District 13 military in the war, and is known as the ruthless Physical Training Major. In his adventures, he meets a girl from District 4 named Rudi, who he falls in love with throughout the course of the revolution. Though his whole family was killed the night Rizzo ran away, he remembers them every time he sees his metal, artificial leg, as much as he hates it._


	5. Jack, District 8

**PART 5: Jack Hourner, District 8**

I'm just your normal District 8 boy. Tall, skinny, with short ginger hair… Well, Ok, not _all _District 8-ians are gingers, but I am.

I'm not Jackson or Jacob or anything like that; I'm Jack. It's my birthname, it's the only thing you're allowed to call me, unless you're some kind of nicknaming wizard that…

No, it's just Jack.

I'm Jack Hourner, and both of my parents are lowly factory workers. We are lucky to live in a house, though it's small and doesn't have any air condition/heat. I say, at least we have one little claustrophobic bathroom and a fireplace in the living room.

I wish I could say it's easy to use the fireplace; but obviously, since our District is a bunch of factories all clumped together in one monstrous smog cloud, there are absolutely no trees. Therefore, no wood, no paper, there's not a lot we have to burn except for cloth, if we ever have extra.

I can't really complain at all, because I know a good share of people that have it worse than me.

Well, I'm leaving something out.

I grew up in an orphanage. It wasn't just any orphanage; it was a miserable little orphanage. And everybody in that orphanage liked to make a pastime of teasing my sister and I.

And I have one birthsister, my twin Emma.

_I remember it like it was just yesterday. We were only 8, and my sister got a new royal blue dress and a matching ribbon. She liked to skip around the house a lot all the way back then, so, when we were called downstairs, she went in a KLUNK! PER-DUNK! PER-DUNK! pattern._

_The royal blue dress swirled behind her in a cascade that matched her eyes, the giant blue ribbon drooping down as it holds the hair from her eyes._

"_Emma, Jack, come on now!" Our orphan Mom Elizabeth was a worn out, cranky woman who was always so stressed out, you couldn't get in two words without her shushing you._

_Down the stairs we flew and ran, giggling, into the lobby._

"_Meet your new foster parents!" Elizabeth says, and doesn't let us even say a word before the four of us are whisked out the door._

_We finally got a look at them; two young men who hold hands and smile down at us. We exchange a look._

"_Hi kids," the taller one whispers._

"_Hi dads," I smile slightly._

_The two men each take one twin by the hand and walk us back out to a little house on the street corner._

_Of course the two of us are teeming with excitement._

_They take us back to the house and that's when I felt a hand sliding down my back._

_They don't turn on any lights when we get to the house. I hear a crash and scream, looking around._

_Emma screams, too, and I find myself quick to find her. "EMMA!"_

_A hand grabs me by the back of the shirt, "Jack they say? You're Jack?"_

_They dim the lights and I search for my sister. She lies in the corner, and I'm not sure if she's awake or not._

_I lower my voice to stay calm, "Y-yes. Jack Hourner."_

"_Hourner? More like-"_

"_Tyler! Language in front of the children."_

"_E-Emma? Are you awake?" I'm grabbed by the back of the shirt._

"_You're really cute, you know that?" Just the tone creeps me out._

"_Emma!"_

"_Your sister is… Um… Asleep…"_

_I want out of here now. "Um…."_

_The shirt is ripped off my back and I flinch. "T-That was new!"_

"_Lie still and we'll do the rest for you." I'm swept off my feet and put on a table. Their cold hands slide the pants off my waist and I shout for help._

I got out of there with a black eye, cut down my arm and a loss of privacy. Emma was scarred for life.

Back at the orphanage, we were teased more than ever. They put hands on my shoulder and say, _"Was I_ _violating you, Jackie?"_

But none of them would ever understand. Not even I would understand, until we were re-adopted by our current parents. A man and a woman, who Em and I called Mom and Dad.

They were a couple of the nicest people I knew.

On my eighteenth birthday, after walking back from my job at the factories, I feel someone grab me by the back of my shirt and freeze.

"You're legal now, Jack."

I'm too scared to do anything.

"So what do you say now, hm?"

"I say to go away!"

"You people caused the death of my boyfriend, you know?"

"I don't care! Go away!"

"Wrong answer-" He coughs, goes stiff, and I hear him thump to the ground.

And my sister stands behind us with a pistol in her hand, quivering.

"JACK!" she shouts, and I run to her. Emma falls on her knees and her red ribbon flops, "I'm so sorry," she cries out, and I don't see why until I look up. Men in white, chasing us.

"Go!" I drag her up and we take off.

"THEY'RE COMING!" she shouts hysterically.

I pull my twin along and squeeze my eyes shut to focus. "GO!"

"Jack!"

"Under the fence! Now!"

Her wails echo in the wind as she makes her way under the fence. I scramble in after her and a bullet digs into my forearm, but I keep moving.

"Come on, Emma!" She runs after me, tearing through the woods.

We both collapse in the bushes and she sobs. "I killed him! I meant to injure him! He's dead!" she shouts.

"Emma! Not so loud!"

She buries her head in my lap and cries. I look around at the stars and realize what my parents must be thinking back home. It's too late now. We made it, and if we ever show our faces back there again, we'll be killed for sure.

The next night, we walk until we find another fence. We stay close to it until I find an opening.

"Go."

"What?"

"You go, Emma. You go there and I'll keep on adventuring."

"I wanna be with you, Jack! I can't be by myself!"

"You have to be! It'll be too obvious if they see us together!"

"Jack!" she wails, "Please!"

I hug her as tightly as I can, "Listen to me because I'm gonna make this fast. I love you more than anything else in my life but it's not safe if we stay together. Listen, I don't know what the future will hold for either of us but you have to go now and I'm sure we'll see each other again soon, Ok?"

She sniffles, untying the bright red ribbon and putting it in my hand. I look up at her. "Don't forget your other half, you hear me?" I nod, looking for something I can give her. I rip the cuffs off the cheap fabric of my shirt and give it to her. "I love you!" I hug her tightly and she buries her head in my shoulder.

"Now go!" Emma nods, whimpering, and climbs under the hole in the fence.

I keep walking, resisting tears, when I hear the whirs of a huge hovercraft.

I almost freeze in fear, but dive into the bushes and hide for my life. I curl up into a ball as the hovercraft passes.

Then, when it's gone, I sit up. The first thing I see is another guy.

"Please don't kill me!" he says.

"I won't, as long as you don't kill me!"

"You've got yourself a deal. Who are you?"

"Jack. Jack Hourner, District 8. You?"

"Rizzo Theramin, District 9."

I grin, "You made it out, too?"

He laughs, "Got shot in the heel. You?"

"Forearm." We both laugh, which is strange considering we're both on the verge of death.

"We can make it together," he says, "Deal?"

I nod quickly, "But… Where?"

He shrugs, "I guess we'll find out!"

**FATE:**

_Jack and Rizzo get to District 13 together, and Jack ends up changing his name to "Jax." Because he's not particularly strong, Jack worked hard to find his place in the system: until he met a girl who he took a liking to. He became her personal cameraman and filmed the revolution as it happened. Jax never gets to tell his new best friend his true feelings. His sister Emma ended up in District 7, where she was taken into the orphanage and eventually became Miss Emma, the Orphanage Mother. Her and Jack's past causes her to be particularly snarky to the kids, and especially any gay parents that come to adopt. The Hourner twins know that they're both alive, but don't reunite until a long while after they were separated._


	6. Sylvester and Willow: Courage

_**A/N: I have had SEVERE writer's block lately, and it's been so bad that I haven't been inspired by anything… So I've decided to work on this story, by making a second installment of the character's lives… Mostly because I'm looking for something depressing-sorta to get me back into the swing of writing. This is what summer does to me… Anyways, sorry in advance if this chapter turns out to be uninspired/boring.**_

**Sylvester's POV**

It was a little bit later in my life that I started to steal.

Ok, let me start over.

It was a little bit later in my life that my family got desperate.

Surprisingly, I'm not the only one who wanders the Victor's Village at night. In fact, I caught a 12-year-old back there who said his name was Charlie and that he lost his first crush in the Arena.

I've caught a good number of kids back there, but a lot of them were just there to play games or because they were lost. Every once in a while you encounter the drunk guys from the Hob, and they can get a little bit rowdy.

My Mom is the only one who knows that I go back there. Willow would probably have a panic attack, and I'll bet Caroline would spread it around the school.

It's a crystal clear midnight and I'm just making the same route I usually do: around, through the back door (which is always unlocked, by the way) and into the kitchen.

I'm pretty sure Abernathy saw me back there. More than once.

I'm almost positive he would've said something if he didn't think I was a vision he had with beer goggles.

I'd be lying if I told you I've never been drunk before. I know this should probably bother me, but it really doesn't. In fact, I really don't consider being drunk to be a bad thing. The funny thing is that I don't think anyone really noticed except for Willow, of course.

Turns out, I'm pretty much the same person, drunk or sober, and the only difference you can see is that my eyes get really cloudy… According to Willow, at least.

Anyways, I know what it's like to be drunk, and I know what it's like to think you're having hallucinations. So, if I can make it convincing, I'm usually off the hook. I can get out of the house with a loaf of bread, a chunk of cheese, or, sometimes when he's out, I can get my hands on a piece of meat.

I'll admit that I've taken alcohol from there, too. But I always drink it on my way home and end up throwing the bottle wherever it may land.

In all true honesty, I think this may have been the best idea I've had in a while.

The unlocked back door starts to creak open, and I hurriedly hold it still and think of what to do. I do the only thing I know how: I spit on it.

It works, and I'm able to slip inside.

The Victor's house is pretty familiar to me by now, and it's easy for me to find the kitchen and take something to eat.

That's when I hear footsteps. I think my heart skips a beat. I've never heard someone walking through the house. I immediately press my side against the side of the fridge and hope that he doesn't end up walking to the fridge. I close my eyes and focus on breathing, and when I focus again, the footsteps are gone. Now, I don't smile, but I think that moment was the closest I had gotten in a long time to it. Like a cat, I sneak back around, through the kitchen, to the front door.

But, my quest isn't over yet. The sky boasts a huge yellow moon, and bright stars. I could still get caught just as easily here as I could've inside.

I swallow hard and get to sneaking out of there. As quietly as I can, I tiptoe across the bushes and my heart practically destroys my chest. Everywhere I walk I feel like someone's watching me.

Suddenly, there she is: so fast I think I would've screamed if I actually screamed, which I don't.

She wears a uniform of white and a fresh scowl, "State your business."

Here's where the problem begins, because I already have trouble talking to other people as it is. Also, I have no idea what to say to justify this scene: a teenage boy with a hunk of cheese in his hands who is obviously not related to Abernathy.

I swallow hard, trying to figure out what to say. Or, what to gesture at.

Obviously, I have nothing to say that can possibly make this whole situation any better. I want to move but I'm currently frozen in fear.

"Try again. State. Your. Business."

I could probably make a break for it, if I tried. If I tried, I could run away and make it.

She smirks, "The time to rat someone else out would be now."

The problem there is that, well… I don't exactly have someone else to rat out.

She takes me by the wrist and I just can't make myself fight back.

"You're something else, do you know that? Are you mute or something?"

I shrug. That's all I can do nowadays anyways.

"I like you. But, unfortunately for you, we Peacekeepers really do have a job."

I gulp, and that's when I hear the ruckus. A whole group of Peacekeepers are swarming around, pounding on doors, waking up the whole surrounding area.

And I know that my family is in that surrounding area.

When they push me up the wooden stairs I squeeze my eyes shut and think of my family right now.

Caroline, shouting out a flawless string of cuss words.

Willow, alarmed and scared, probably running around like a headless chicken trying to find me.

And our Mom, the only one who knows the truth, taking them both by the shoulders and pushing them out the door.

When I see Willow stumbling out, I know that my mental picture must be fairly spot-on.

This is a nightmare… And the worst part is that the night is crystal clear and brighter than usual, so everyone can clearly see my face. My emotions. My pain.

_Be strong. I have to tough this out. For my family._

And I know as soon as they all get a good look at me, because I hear the shriek, the scream, the awful squeaky noise of Willow when she cries out.

Besides the slight _whoosh _of the wind and the cries of my sister and mother, the night is silent, so quiet that I don't even realize how many people there really are.

I only hear tidbits of what was announced… I was already ready to pass out.

"Whipping…. For the crime of stealing….From a Victor… 60 whippings!"

I hear the sobs of my sister and wonder how large a number _60 _is.

A part of me dreads that it's a high number, especially based on the reaction of the crowd. Soft murmurs and gasps rose from the audience.

I eventually can't stand to think of the numbers anymore, and zone back in to the announcer, "Hope this is all a lesson to you…. Peacekeepers…. Will catch you… Especially this new shipment…"

Everyone knows that, soon, the _new shipment _will hang out at the Hob and get drunk every night like the old ones do. Looks like I'm the only sucker that's going to get punished.

I squeeze my eyes shut and wait.

The impact of the rope on my bare back stings like you wouldn't believe. I bite my tongue to keep from crying out. I'm not letting these people hear me cry out. And I'm not letting my family watch me suffer. I can tough this out. The first time's always the worst, right?

Wrong.

With each new crack of the whip, the pain elevates and I soon end up blinking tears from my eyes.

I'm already weak and starving as it is, so each time the thing makes contact with my skin, the wind is knocked out of me.

I've only seen one other guy get whipped before, and he screamed out and cried the whole time. It takes everything in me not to do the same. I'm not letting them have the pleasure of seeing me even cringe in the slightest.

_CRACK!_

I end up hacking, but keep as straight a face as I can keep.

I wonder how many it's been… And that's when I feel the blood dripping down my back. It's a pretty horrendous thing when you think about it, but I'm not letting myself think about it.

And just when I'm positive I'll be dead with one more crack, it stops. That's 60.

It's all a blur. "Let this dirty criminal….A lesson to never… And that you can feel protected in your homes…"

And before I know it, the murmuring is over and the night is silent again.

"You don't belong here, creep," the man reminds me, yet again, "I don't know where you're from, but I think it's outer space, FreakyEyes." I think he kicks me off the stage by the back, and I can hear his smirking just in the way that he whispers, "Dumbass."

I have no idea what to do next, I honestly don't. I guess the next thing would be to try and get up, which I do. My whole body shakes, I can barely walk, but I'm standing, and that's a Victory in my eyes. In my freaky eyes…

I feel an arm wrap around my shoulder, and my mom helps me walk.

I hate the fact that her shoulder is wet.

She speaks in barely a whisper, "Sylvester… You couldn't have been braver out there…"

"I could've…"

"No. No, you couldn't have." She shakes as hard as I think I am, "And I couldn't be prouder of you," her voice is full of tears.

I frown. "Proud ? Why would you be proud? I'm a dirty, no-good criminal who was just humiliated in front of-"

She stops and wraps her arms around my neck, and I can tell she's still crying, "The fact that you will not stop fighting for us… There is nothing they can do to stop you or make you give up… That's courage."

I hug her back and stifle my own tears.

She runs a finger through my hair and looks into my eyes, "Your father was just like that, too… He'd be so proud of you…."

I sigh and we resume walking, "It's not that big a deal. Because I want you guys to be happy."

She nods and sniffles, and I know we should probably drop the conversation.

* * *

Big, red scars. That's what it's left, according to Willow.

But, I never want to see them. And she can't stand to look at them. And I don't think I'll ever let anyone see them… Ever.

Even though they all say I'm courageous, I'm still ashamed at the scars. I wish they'd go away.

But, that opened up the vortex to a whirlwind of problems.

My family, (after a while of arguing with me) convinced me to quit sneaking into the Village for food and to just keep working. We had entered desperate times, where there were some nights that left our stomachs empty. Mine was always empty more often than theirs, but I never really said anything about it.

And, as time droned on, everything just got worse.

**Willow's POV**

I'm really worried about Sylvester.

He never says it, but I just know he hasn't been eating. Why? He always offers his food to us. I never take it, but somehow he always makes me eat it anyways.

He's by far the most courageous person I know. By far.

Except, I'm really really really scared. Because, over the past month or so, I can see the life draining from my brother's eyes.

I have to say something to him… As soon as I get the courage to do it.

And I do, one night when Mom and Caroline are both out.

He holds out a cracker to me, "Take it."

"No."

"Willow-"

"No! Listen to me, Sylvester. You're starving for us! Please, eat it."

"I'm already dead, anyways."

I'm left appalled. "Don't you dare say that!"

"It's true!"

"I can't lose you! Not so early-" he puts a finger on my mouth.

"Let me make a deal with you, Willow."

"What kind of a deal?"

"Here's how it'll work. You eat this today, and I'll eat my own food tomorrow. Ok?"

"No stealing-"

He shakes his head, "No. Tomorrow, I'll eat, I promise. Deal?"

I make myself nod.

He puts a hand on my shoulder, "Get some sleep now, Will."

I hesitate, but reluctantly lay my head down.

* * *

It's a rare thing I'm ever awake before my brother, but I am this morning. He's asleep right here next to me.

"Sylver…" I poke him.

He doesn't move at all.

I sit up and wipe my eyes, and to my horror, he's not moving at all. I shake my brother desperately, shouting, "SYLVESTER! WAKE UP, PLEASE!"

I almost expect his eyes to flutter open and to say, "Just joking!"

If only we had been so lucky.

I hear the footsteps of my Mom first, then Caroline.

"Willow, what's the matter-"

"He's… He's…"

Mom's already there for me, and I collapse into her arms, in tears.

"I can't believe Sylvester is dead!"

And I remember the promise he made to me last night. It strikes me then that he knew it was the end for him. Somehow, he knew he would be dead when I woke up this morning.

The whole conversation flashes once again before my eyes and I realize that he knew exactly what was coming. And, in a way, I think he was indirectly trying to warn me.

But… He was so young. 18, didn't even get to find a girl to love… There are so many things Sylvester could've done, but he's so suddenly gone now.

And that's when I get an idea. Sylvester was the definition of courage. These 6 years, he worked so hard he was exhausted, he took 60 whippings without even making a sound, he starved himself to the death, and not once have I ever heard him complain. He had every intention of dying for us from the start. And I didn't even realize it until I see him lying dead before me.

I sit up and get our Dad's Medal of Honor from the drawer. We don't deserve to have it. But he does.

Even Caroline's eyes tear up, and my Mom stands up and tries to find words to say to describe what we were going through.

I let out a cry before choking out, through tears, "Sylvester is happy now… He's happier now than he's ever been here…" a tear slides down my cheek and lands on the floor by his head.

"And he deserves it," Mom says, "He deserves to be running around with Dad up there in the sky, without a care in the world…"

And I look up at the ceiling and smile ever-so-slightly, "He really does."


	7. Geno: A battle

_**A/N: I really love depressing stories, if you haven't already guessed. I love to write these chapters (because I love these characters) so I'm writing more! Also, in my AU, the Hunger Games resume, and they all get to go through a third revolution. So, that's why District 12 isn't completely destroyed in my world. P.S. The end of this chapter makes me think of Empty Chairs At Empty Tables from Les Mis. **_

**Geno's POV**

It's day 10 in the Arena and I'm exhausted. I've been in this jungle for 10 days now. I haven't showered, or even bathed, I've barely eaten a scrap, and, to top it all off, I have a gash on my face from the boy from 1. And it's been bleeding since the night he died, which was only last night.

My ally Orlick is up first, and I sit up after him, still feeling woozy.

"How's your cut?"

"He slashed it pretty good…" I sit up and gently run my finger over the wound.

"Aw… I'm really sorry."

I shrug, "Not much more to say. He's dead now."

"There are three of us left. It's you, me, and the girl from 4."

"What's her name again?" I hate the question as soon as I ask it.

"Bow," he says, "Or at least I think it's something like that."

I nod slowly, "I see." Then my head spins some more and I lean against a tree.

I close my eyes and focus on breathing. In, out. In, out.

"You Ok?" my ally, who's just 2 years younger than I am, is immediately by my side.

"I'm fine. Just…" I trail off.

Orlick sits next to me and his gray eyes look upset. I hear a beeping noise and groan, "Oh, God… I think this is the end…"

I hear a loud and cheerful laugh come from my ally. "No, it's not! Sit up, you big wimp!"

"Wh-what?"

Orlick leaves my side, just to return with a silver item. A sponsor parachute! I immediately laugh, too, "This is great!"

Orlick grins, taking out a little container of creamy medicine, "I think this is for you."

I laugh, "Maybe…"

He unscrews the lid, "Do you want to do it, or do you want me to?"

I think about it. I'm really not sure.

"Doesn't matter to me… But I guess it'd be better for you to do it, considering you can see everywhere that it's bleeding."

He smiles, "Ok. Hold still." He takes the medicine with his pointer finger and says, "If it stings, tell me. I'll try to be careful, though."

My ally is 14, I'm 16. He's just as gentle as he says, and careful in putting the medication on my face.

I flash him a small smile, wary of not messing up the medicine on my left cheek.

"This came with your medicine," Orlick says, putting a tiny piece of paper in my fingers.

I swallow hard, trying to remain calm. The first thing I think of when I see the black ink on the paper is, to be completely honest, _SHIT._

I look at the letters, trying to figure out what the words say, trying desperately to read them, and all of the memories come back.

"_What do you mean, you can't read a clock? It's SIMPLE!"_

"_Hey, hey, hey Geno! Why don't you read Cat in the Hat to us? Hunh? Oh, yeah, you can't, Clockwork!"_

"_Look at you, on your way to SPECIAL education, IDIOT!"_

Not only am I stupid- um... dyslexic… but I'm also one of the smallest kids in my class. Here, the Careers called me Pipsqueak, or Squeaky, Squeaks, Pippy, or, the most awful of them all, _Pip_.

I blink, trying to focus on the letters and comprehend them.

Orlick can see my trouble, because he looks at me, confused, "Are you Ok?"

I'm lucky my ally is small, too, or else I'd be the smallest boy in the Arena.

I nod, "F-fine."

"What does the note say?"

And all of the confessions swarm out of my mouth like wasps, about being bullied, having to live with dyslexia, and especially my inability to read. He listens the whole time and nods sympathetically.

"Do you want me to read it for you?"

I nod gratefully, and he looks at the paper.

"Good luck, and be prepared for the worst. –Beetee."

I nod, already knowing that. It is the final 3, after all. I don't know why I'm still sticking to my ally.

"So we go after her, then?"

"If we have to, I guess we should."

"Feel up to it?" he asks. I stand up, "Yeah. You'll have to be the lookout, though," I tease. He's been the lookout since we first joined together.

He goes first and I gulp. One of us is going to have to be dead for either of us to win. I don't think of that. I'm sure Bow won't go down without a fight. I guess it just depends on which of us dies first.

Orlick stops suddenly and I almost trip over him.

"Geno, can I ask you something?"

"What?"

"Would you be willing to…"

"To?"

"To trade tokens?"

"What?"

"Trade tokens. You know, you take mine, I take yours."

It's something to think about.

"If I die, I want you to remember me. And if you die, I want to remember you, too."

It's a grim reality that either of those could really happen, but I nod, "Ok."

I reach in my pocket and take out the gold coin I took into the Arena with me. I hold it out to him, "My best friend gave this to me. Take good care of it."

He nods, and shows me the little lightbulb he has. "This was from my dad's mining helmet. It burned out a while ago, but I still think it's the most nifty thing I own."

I nod, "I'll protect this. I promise."

He smiles and I have to hold one back while the medicine dries on my face. Then we keep walking without a word.

* * *

Bow is a girl with wavy brown hair and turquoise eyes. She's a little thing, but still bigger than I am, and she's setting a trap when we attack her. Nobody said it'd be easy to catch us.

Orlick got a fairly small scythe from the Cornucopia, and I got a very aerodynamic and VERY lightweight sword that I use extremely well.

She has her dagger ready, though, and she reopens the gash on my face, and, to my dismay, it starts gushing blood once again.

She grins wickedly, "Look who's getting a Two-for-one-DEAL?"

She throws her dagger at my chest but I hit the ground and roll out of the way.

I didn't think to steal it, but boy, do I wish I had.

The three of us fight as hard as we can after being left for 10 days in the jungle and fighting other tributes.

Orlick is the one who reaches up to slit her throat, and I'm the one who puts the sword through her chest.

And she rolls over, and we hear a cannon.

And now it's the final 2.

And I stick the sword through his stomach before I can even think what I'm doing.

* * *

It's a grief that can't be spoken.

It's the one thing I regret more than anything in the world. That's the one thing I wish I had never done.

But I did it. I did it, and now he's dead.

I sit in my house in the Victor's Village, on the old wooden rocking chair, by the blazing fireplace.

_Back, forth. Back, forth._

The scar on my face never went away. Frankly, I would never want it to. It's a reminder of how broken I am.

I wish there was something I could do to make it up to him. I'm that one total douchebag who killed his own ally. And it's not like Orlick had a single intention of killing me.

That's what the battle of life and death does to you.

I hold the lightbulb in my fingers and can't help thinking about that one dark day.

Mutts didn't even have to show up at the scene, even though I'm sure they were on their way.

Because it wasn't anything but his own ally that took his life.

I could've at least let him fight back. I could've let him hurt me, too. I could've let him give me scars that make me regret messing with him. I don't think he would've fought back, but I could've given him the option, just so I wouldn't have to live with this.

But I do. And I have to live with it for as long as I live and he doesn't.

* * *

The worst part is having to live through the rebellion.

And I stand in District 12, with even more blood on my hands, I feel sick. I look up into the sky and see the world through the eyes of a little 14-year-old boy who had trouble fitting in. Seeing the destruction that this war has caused, I don't think life here will be the same ever again.

And I'm in charge of leading the surviving men through the woods, back to Headquarters in District 13. The women and children were taken on hovercrafts, but there wasn't enough for everyone. So, all of the men who are healthy enough are taken under the gate to the woods, for what may be the longest journey of our lives.

I'm with my best friend Theo, Major Theramin, a boy who I recognize from my District named Tanner, and a guy from 11 named Ben. We make our ways under and try to account for everyone.

I take one last look back at Orlick's home… A home that was starving, destroyed, and will now never be the same again. He would be proud of me, I think. But I can only think.

"Geno!" Theo says, "Earth to Geno!"

I blink and look back at them all.

"Come on," Tanner says, "We're leaving!"

They run back to the front of the line with Major and Ben. I blink a tear from my eye, clutch my gun tight to my chest, and follow them.

I say one last goodbye to my old ally, leaving it all behind forever.


	8. Apollo&Siren: Tricked

_**A/N: *sobs* I'm really sorry…**_

**Siren's POV**

"Dad."

He sits in his study, flipping through sheet music.

"_Dad."_

He has a Bluetooth in his ear, "Yeah, I know." He listens, "I always knew Molly would be-"

I grab him by the shoulder, yanking him out of his chair, "Dad!"

"Speaking of kids-"

I finally give up, "DAD!" I grab him by the shirt and stare into his dull green eyes. "Your gun is GONE."

He loosens my grip on his shirt, eyes full of fear, "I'll call you back, Tanner-"

"It's Tenor," I growl at him, "Your son Tenor is somewhere with your gun!"

He looks even more alarmed than before, "Tenor?"

"Yes, you idiot, TENOR!" I scream at him. I would never be allowed to talk like this, but today is serious.

My Dad suddenly snaps to life, "Kids! Kids!

Apollo and Harmony come running down the stairs, Harmony with a huge grin plastered on her face, "Yes sir!"

"This is serious, you guys, Tenor's missing with a gun… We have to find him, we have to!" His eyes fill with tears, "Call your mother."

"I'm on it," I say, pulling out my cell phone as we run.

I don't cry until I hear my mom's voice on the other end, "Siren, honey, I'm really busy right now-"

"MOM!" I scream in the phone, "LISTEN TO ME!"

I blink a tear out of my eye.

"Siren, are you-"

"TENOR'S GONE!"

"What?" she sounds alarmed now, too.

"Tenor ran away," I sob, "And he took a gun with him!"

"Siren, calm yourself down," she says quickly, "I'm checking out of work right now-"

Our conversation is interrupted by a loud **BANG!**

I scream. Apollo immediately comforts me and I bury my head in his shoulder and wail.

"You don't know, Siren… You don't know…" But his voice catches with tears.

Dad runs down the street, and Apollo helps me along.

"Theo!" Tanner is there, and he carries my brother. _My brother. __My 16-year-old brother._

Tenor drops the gun and it hits the pavement with a clatter.

I run to them as fast as I can, "TENOR!" Apollo and Harmony run after me.

And Dad takes off running just then with Tenor in his arms. We all know that he's trying to find some kind of medical help to keep my brother alive. We also know, though, that it's terribly in vain.

I shout after him, just wishing that my baby brother is conscious enough to hear my last words to him, "We all love you, Tenor!"

Then I collapse into Ben's open arms.

"Sssssssssssssshhhh…. Ssssssssssssssssssssshhhh," he whispers to me, running his fingers through my hair, "Siren… Siren. Listen to me."

I can only make quiet whimpering noises.

"It's going to be Ok. You're going to be Ok. I promise you'll be Ok…. Sssssshhhh…" He hugs me tight and rocks me side-to-side. I wail into his shoulder and end up running out of breath.

I let go of Ben and wipe a tear from my eyes just as Tanner greets me with a hug so tight the air is squeezed out of me.

I've failed as a sister. All these years I spend with him, I always thought I was protecting him.

I…I always thought he was just a dorky boy who was just silly and could always laugh at himself.

I was obviously wrong.

I thought my brother was a socially awkward mythology genius who spent all the time up in his room reading myths and playing the saxophone all the time. I thought he buried his head in books all the time and simply had no desire in the world to make friends.

I honestly never would've guessed.

Tenor was so happy, or at least, he seemed.

Every day, he'd come home from school with a smile on. Every time something didn't go his way, he just laughed. Every time Harmony would say something about his clumsiness, or Apollo about his dorkiness, or even me about his naturally awkward nature, he'd just laugh and say, "I guess that's true, isn't it?" Then he'd pat Harmony's head or grin at Apollo or laugh at me.

He seemed like such an open book with us… But now I know that he tricked us. All of us. Now I know that for absolute positively sure.

Harmony still has a look of pure shock on her face.

Apollo and I exchange a glance, tears dripping down his cheeks and magnifying his freckles.

"He tricked us," I whisper, voice barely audible from the cries, "He tricked all of us…"

He meets me in a hug and I bury my head in my other baby brother's shoulder.

"He was a tricky one, Siren. It's not our faults, he was tricky."

I wail, "Yes it is, Apollo! How did we not see?"

I bury my face.

Harmony is confused, teal eyes blinking back tears, "Wh… What's going on?"

"Tenor is gone!" I sob, and Tanner picks up my baby sister, whispering to her softly.

My last statement echoes in my head, _Tenor is gone!_

_Tenor's gone!_

_GONE._

_Gone._

_Gone…._

I hate the word. Hate it, hate it, **HATE IT!**

When I hug my mom, I close my eyes and think about yesterday, when I ruffled Tenor's shaggy hair and told him, "ou're such a dork," as his swampy puppy dog eyes filled with laughter.

I always loved his adorable puppy-pound-dog eyes. I always thought that looking into them gave me a piece of my brother. I think of how they looked… Almost conflicting… Yesterday.

That just makes me feel even worse.

Because I never ever would've thought that would be that last time.

* * *

**An excerpt from Tenor Campbell's final manuscript, an author-insert Greek mythology Epic:**

XVI. FINALE

And the great hero Tenor and his crew have been welcomed by the natives of Crete onto their island. The adventurers have searched long and hard to find the magical saxophone of Theodorus, an ancient hero who created the saxophone to bring peace to the world. The saxophone had been lost until that day, when Tenor and his crew discovered the treasure in a remote cave off in the rainforest.

Weary and hungry, the heroes rejoiced upon finding their treasure, at last. The golden saxophone, dull with grime and muck it acquired over a thousand years or so, was in the depths of a dark, moist cave, behind a thick wall of sediment. And now, in the light, the hero Tenor holds it out to the sun. And Apollo, the Sun God who assisted in the creation of such a heavenly instrument, drove his sun chariot above to island.

The instrument shone with a glint that made Tenor and his crew look away. He wearily put the reed in his mouth and gently put air through the instrument.

And the purest sound came out, practically singing as the young hero played it.

But the world was still not in the peaceful state promised by the hero Theodorus. And it was decreed from the heavens that, for the success of the well-being of all mankind, there must be a human sacrifice.

And, the great hero Tenor stepped forward to the plate and proclaimed, "I shall die tonight…. And the prophecy of the great hero Theodorus shall be completed."

And his whole crew gasps in shock as Tenor unsheathes his sword.

"And so, my crew, I fare thee well. And I beg of you… To use this precious gift of my sacrifice for good, and only good."

His heart pounded in his chest, but the young hero knew that his death would only better the lives of others.

And Tenor gave his crew a nod goodbye, wandering deep into the depths of the cave.

All they could hear was the saxophone wailing, echoes bouncing off the walls like a flock of doves.

And with the last wail of the saxophone came silence. A dead silence, which marked the death of the great hero Tenor of Athens.

And, with the sacrifice complete, the crew exchanges looks of victory and happiness. They board their ship and travel on a flawless journey home, leaving Tenor and the treasure on that remote island.

Upon reaching Athens, the people hosted a celebration; a party. The most royal kind of party a crew could ask for, and the name Tenor was never spoken again.

* * *

_It happened as the prophecy said, _

_The damn old hero Tenor is dead, _

_They never again spoke the name, _

_That made the sacrifice for their gain._

_They danced and laughed and said three cheers,_

_Except for the sacrifice receiving their jeers._

_They mark the final Vict'ry day,_

_When the damn old Tenor burns away,_

_They're buried somewhere in the stone,_

_Where they will stay, for time to drone,_

_He forever suffers in the depths of hell,_

_And all have forgotten his final farewell._

_It ended as the prophecy said, _

_With the misgiven glory and the damn bastard dead._

* * *

_AUTHOR'S NOTE: Ok. If you've taken the time to read this whole damn thing, I pity you, because you have way too much time on your hands to be wasting on the likes of bastards like me. Consider this to be my last goodbye… To the world, to all of mankind… I challenge you to read the poem again and remember it, because it's the only thing I'm leaving for you. I wish I could tell you it hurts to say goodbye, but that would be a fucking lie, and, though I may be a lost, dorky, clumsy, socially awkward runt… Well, I'm **not** a dirty liar. And I'll let that sink in because it's true. _

_I can't wait any longer to die. I don't care who takes what of my stuff, but I'm dying with my reed in my back pocket and you better not touch it or ELSE._

_And with that, well, it's time to say goodbye._

* * *

_It happened as the prophecy said, _

_The damn old __**bastard**__ Tenor is dead._


	9. Rizzo: A Ghost

_I find it kinda funny…._

_I find it kinda sad…_

_The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I ever had…._

_I find it hard to tell you, _

_I find it hard to take…_

_When people run in circles, it's a very very…_

_Mad world… Mad world…_

_A little girl stands in front of me. "Why did you do it?"_

"_Why did I do what?" I sit up in bed. _

_She can't be older than 3. She's the littlest thing, with dark curly hair and big brown eyes that look up at me curiously._

"_Why did I die, Rizzo?" She curls the curly bangs around her finger and looks at me curiously. _

"_Wh-wh-who are you?!" I scramble up, banging my head off the headboard._

_When I look at my clock, it says, in big numbers, __**12:34**__._

"_I told you last night. And the night before that. And the night before that. You wouldn't respond in your dreams, so I had to find you here."_

"_Wh-what the hell are you talking about?!"_

_She blinks a tear out of her huge brown eyes and looks down at her tiny feet. _

"_WHO ARE YOU?"_

"_My name is Kat," she says, clearly crying now. _

"_I don't know you at all… I've never seen you before… Why do you keep coming here?!"_

_She longingly reaches out a hand, and it floats right through my head. _

"_I never got to know you either. I wanted to, but Mommy wouldn't let me."_

"_You… You're a ghost child!" I bark at her, "I don't know why you picked ME to haunt, but I don't want you!" _

_She lets out a wail, collapsing on the bed and floating above the matress._

_All I can do is watch. I feel sick._

"_Why did you do it?" she sobs, "Why did you do it, Rizzo?"_

_I clench my fists, "What did I do!?"_

_She looks up at me through a crack in her fingers, cheeks stained with tears. _

"_Do you know who I am, Rizzo? Think long and hard before you answer."_

_I bury my head in my arms and think as hard as I can._

_Finally, I hear the ghost girl ask in the smallest voice, "Why did you let us die, Rizzo?" _

"_You… You can't be…" My voice cracks. Damn it. _

_I feel sick to my stomach, tears spilling out of my eyes._

"_Why did you let us die, Rizzo?" she asks again. "Mom said that we could've lived."_

_I swallow hard, "You could've. I'd be the one dead and you'd be alive." I get on my knees and crawl across the bed to my unborn sister. _

"_Why did you let us die?" she asks again, looking up at me._

"_I…. I…." fresh tears make their way down my cheeks. _

_She waits, looking up at me curiously._

"_Because I was mad." It's the only thing I can think of._

"_Why were you mad? Why were you mad enough to let us die?"_

_I squeeze my eyes shut, "You wouldn't understand."_

"_Why were you mad enough to let us die?" _

_I bury my head in a pillow, "Leave me alone! Go away and never come back!"_

_I can feel it when she comes near. Her presence makes me shiver with cold._

"_Please answer my question so I can rest in peace."_

_I can't even answer it for myself. I promised myself I would leave my past behind forever, and I don't break promises._

_I throw a pillow at the specter, but it flies right through her and she looks miserably at me. _

_The pillow hits the wall with a thump._

"_Rizzo, why did you let me die? Mom said you love us very much, but yet…. You let me die."_

_I clench my teeth, miserably screaming into my pillow._

Suddenly, the door cracks open and my ghost sister disappears.

"Riz, you OK?"

Jax, peeks in the door.

"Yesgoaway," I mutter into my pillow.

"Nightmares?"

I sigh. I'll sound insane if I tell the truth. "Yes."

"I'm sorry. I still dream about it, too." He's just trying to help, but I don't want him to. I pick up another pillow and wail it at Jack, who quickly slams the door shut before it can hit his face.

I look at the clock. **1:01.**

"_You haven't answered me!" Kat wails miserably, "Why did you let us die?" _

_I scream into my pillow, "BECAUSE I WAS JUST BEING SELFISH, OK!? I WAS AND AM A TERRIBLE PERSON AND THERE'S NOT A THING YOU CAN SAY TO MAKE IT BETTER!"_

_I look up, in case she's preparing to take my soul to hell or something._

_Tears stream down her face, "Mommy says it's your fault we died…. But I don't want to believe that."_

"_Well believe it, kid. It's true. It really is my fault."_

_She blinks tears away. "I was really hoping it wasn't true…." _

"_Well it is!" I say forcefully, "So leave me alone!" _

_I bury my head in my pillow and close my eyes to make it look like I'm sleeping. And I hear whimpers coming from my baby sister Kat._

_When I open my eyes to look, I see her curled up against me, in a tiny ball, whimpering until she sleeps and snores softly. _

_I feel like if I stir, I would disturb her. But she hovers ever-so-slightly above the bed, and that reminds me that she's dead and there's no disturbing her any longer. _

_Hands shaking, I put my fingertips right through her abdomen and shiver. But, somehow, I close my eyes and get to sleep. Kat is there in my dream, too. She stands, floating over a dark, endless pit. She holds out her hand to me and I hesitantly reach out._

_Her touch is cold, but solid. Her face is almost flushed, but still very pale, like the ghost I saw. _

_She squeezes my hands in hers and looks up at me with her sad brown eyes, the same brown eyes I have. _

_She blinks slowly, as if she's studying my face to remember every little detail._

"_Rizzo… Please don't blame yourself. Please."_

_I try to make myself speak, but she continues, "Will you please smile for me, Rizzo? I want to remember it, so if I ever feel lonely, I can see it."_

_I hate to do it, but I slowly make myself smile for her. She studies every detail of it. "I don't think you'll be smiling a lot anymore. But I really like it when you do." _

_I look back at her with sad eyes. "You're right about that." _

_She nods miserably. "Think of us, when you get the chance. Won't you, please?"_

"_I…I can't."_

"_You have to… Please… For me…?"_

"_I can't stand to relive the past."_

"_But I don't blame it on you, Riz." _

_I heave a sigh. "I'll try to think of you. But it won't be easy." _

"_That's all I ask." _

"_If I let go… Will I fall?"_

"_You will. Then I think you'll wake up and forget about me."_

_I squeeze her hands. _

_I have to be a man about this. After all, my problems will never be solved if I spend all my time running from them. I can't keep being scared of the past… I just have to learn from it. I can go running into battle easily, can't I? I can charge straight into a District full of Peacekeepers and shoot, right? And that's exactly how I need to treat this. _

"_Please don't feel bad, Big Brother… I'm in a happier place," she says, finally breaking the silence between us. I slowly close my eyes, "I'll try not to."_

"_And, don't forget your roots, either," she says, "Mom told me to tell you that." _

_I nod slowly, "I promise I'll never forget where I came from."_

_Because, if I forget what I went through, I just might repeat it. _

_Kat uses my hands as supports to lift herself up and gently kiss my cheek. "I love you, Rizzo." _

"_I… I love you… Too…"_

_And just like that, she flies away with the wind, as if she was a pile of sand and the breeze was carrying her away. _

My alarm clock wakes me up.

Jax sticks his head in the door, "The new recruits are here and ready for Physical Training, Rizzo. Starts today at 6:30 in the morning."

I smile slightly, "Got it. Meet you out there for an early breakfast."

Jax disappears, and I blink.

Then, I put two and two together. Kat had just been a dream all along. I felt so dream-like seeing her in my bedroom that I know it's true. Besides, spirits aren't real, anyways.

Trust me, the fact that it was all just a twisted little dream makes me feel bittersweet. I'm a little glad, but also a little regretful that I didn't actually get to tell them all I'm sorry.

I wash my face and get dressed, ready to boss around some new recruits at Physical Training, or, as I call it, Pain and Torture.

I frown at my feet. It was all a cruel little dream.

The whole conversation with Jax, the pillow-throwing, my sister… All a trick.

Or, at least, I think.

But I suddenly stumble across not one but TWO pillows and hear the tiniest hiccup of a giggle and start to doubt myself.


	10. Emma: My Past

**Emma's POV**

Fuck my life.

Just, fuck it.

I can't believe I'm here. I can't believe I'm an orphan… Again. And it's all my fault.

My hand was shaking, Ok?

I felt awful about having a gun in my hands in the first place.

Not to mention that my brother was about to get raped and I was in a really bad place… But I never intended on killing him. I wanted to shoot his bottom-side or his foot or heels or even his lower back, but nothing that would be lethal. Then Jack and I would run off and get the police together, and I could throw my arms around him and we could walk home together and never see them again.

But no.

No.

I had to crack under the pressure. And I hit him right in the heart, like I was actually aiming for the perfect shot.

And the authorities just had to come after us.

I'm lucky Jack was able to think fast, though.

But I'd rather be dead than be here. In this prison cell called District 7.

I'm a record-setter, I stayed in that awful orphanage so long I literally grew up and was forced to take over as the orphanage mom. All the dreams I had were crushed, all because I can't aim a gun.

And now I'm stuck here. I'll never ever forgive these damn demon-kids for how they always used to treat Jack and me. Well, it wasn't these kids, but all orphanage kids are the same, right?

I'm almost glad to be whisking them all away to the gay couples.

They can know how it feels to be molested, just like Jack did, and I had to watch.

I'm kind of losing my mind without him, I think. But I don't even care because I like it like this.

Well, far from _like_ it. But getting rid of these hell-bound children absolutely makes my day complete.

I miss Jack. So much. I can't help thinking that he's still out there somewhere and we might be able to reunite someday.

But it's in vain.

He's either far far away from me or dead.

Or both, because Heaven's a pretty faraway place.

There's not a single doubt in my mind that Jack's there. It's so unlikely that he's even alive right now. I wonder if he still has my ribbon, wherever he is. I mean, if he's dead, he won't have it anymore. But if he's alive, I sure hope he still has it.

I still have the cuffs of the shirt he wore that day. I keep them with me all the time, not even caring if it's weird.

I hate being a stupid orphanage mom. It's the worst job in the world.

I sit at the front desk during the day while the little kids play and sometimes even zone out.

Thinking of Jack makes me sick, and I put my head down on the table…

Suddenly I feel a tug on my dress. "Miss Emma?"

Glaring, I sit up, "What do you want, snot?"

The little girl looks up at me with pretty turquoise eyes and her lower lip trembles.

"My dolly broke," she says quietly, swallowing tears and holding up a rag doll.

"So?" I ask, unamused.

She blinks away a tear, "They stole it from me and threw it all around and I couldn't get it then it broke."

I'm taken back to a time when I was her age… Maybe even younger.

They did the same kinds of things to us when Jack and I were kids.

When I look down at her, she cringes like I'm going to punch her: or worse.

Instead, I pick her up and put her on my knees, "Let's see about your doll."

She smiles, showing me the place in which the doll's leg is torn.

"Come on, Kiddo," I say, leading her back to my little bedroom.

I sit at my desk and turn on a lamp. Carefully, I take a needle and thread from my dresser and all the memories of home came flooding back to me.

It wrenches my heart and I blink tears out of my eyes as I shakily finish stitching the doll.

I turn around and see her standing quietly in the doorway, just where I left her.

She quivers still like I'm going to cut her doll's head off.

I walk back to the doorway and hold it down to her. "There," I say, "All fixed."

Her delicate little fingers pluck the doll from my hand and she examines it.

"Thank you, Miss Emma!" she says happily, hugging my leg.

"No, thank you," I tell her, "You helped me remember where I came from."

* * *

I was a better orphanage mom after that.

Not perfect (nobody is) but I got better. I actually tried to learn names and tried to care, but the little girl with the turquoise eyes is still my favorite.

I learned her name is Genevieve. She has dirty blonde hair that cascades past her shoulders in light curls.

I'm in my room one night, sleeping, when I hear a small, "Pssssstttt."

I look up and there she is, rag doll dragging along the floor.

"Wh…What?" I ask, sitting up and turning on a lamp.

"I had a bad dream," she whispers.

Of all the things I've been going through, to be honest, nightmares isn't one of them.

I lift her up on the bed, "Aw, sweetie. What about?"

She swallows hard, "Mommy and Daddy."

"What happened?"

She looks at her feet, "Tree fell on Daddy. Mommy picked me up and put me on the doorstep," she says, pointing towards the exit." Tears fall down her already stained cheeks, "Why did Mommy do that?" she squeaks.

"I don't know," I say, stroking her hair.

"I thought Mommy loved me!" she cries, "Mommy said she loved me!"

"Maybe Mommy will come back," I say.

She shakes her head, holding out a piece of paper to me.

"Mommy gave this to me."

I take it from her little fingers and read it out loud.

_This is my daughter Genevieve. Her birthday is a week from today, July 4. She will turn 4. Her father was killed, and I just can't stand to see her around anymore. Hopefully when I get over the grief, I'll be able to readopt her, but until then, take care of her. _

_Signed, Isabel Castello_

"How old are you now?" I ask gently.

"Six," she says, frowing.

"Oh, Genevieve," I say quietly, picking you the girl in a hug, "I'm so sorry."

"My dolly is the last thing Mommy gave me," she says, "And she told me that it would always remind me of home."

"I'm really sorry, honey."

She sits in my bed and twirls a lock of hair around her finger. "Tell me something happy."

I think about it for a second.

"Every day's a brand new day. The sun comes out, abandons the last night. You can always start over."

I swallow hard.

"Do you believe that?" she asks.

A fresh tear rolls down my cheek and I finally face the fact that I'm wrong.

I'm a hypocrite.

How can I tell Genevieve these things when I can't even face it myself?

"I do now," I finally make myself answer.

"We can start over together?" she asks hopefully.

"We can start over together," I say with a nod.

And she smiles. And I smile.

* * *

I really did start over. Both of us really started over.

But Genevieve held on to her rag doll, and I held on to Jack's cuffs, just to hold on to our pasts.

I can't believe that such a little girl could change me like this.

The revolution changed my life forever.

The first bomb exploded on our District with a boom.

The kids in the orphanage released into havoc.

"Sssh!" I say desperately, "Listen. We have to get out of here. Everyone link hands, now," I say, alarmed.

Everyone makes a chain with their hands. "You all stay there," I whisper, "I'll go see what's going on. "

"Wait!" Genevieve says, but I leave and shut the orphanage door.

I run into a strong guy with dark hair and brown eyes.

"Woah!" he says, "Sorry!" He helps me up, looking just as shell-shocked as I am.

He takes my hands, "Come on. We'll get you to safety."

"Wait," I say, "There are kids in my orphanage!"

He nods and we run there together.

"Come on, kids," he says quickly and everyone runs after us.

Another bomb explodes, and I hear screams.

"You're Ok, you're Ok," I say quietly to my kids, as we run.

"MY DOLLY!" Genevieve says suddenly, tears in her eyes, "I LEFT HER!"

"You have to forget!" I yell sternly but she tears her hands from the others and runs after it.

"GENEVIEVE!" I say, running after her, but it's too late. A bomb falls by her and takes her life with it.

"We have to keep going," the general says, "To save the others."

He pulls me along and I wail with agony.

I can't believe it. The only joy and hope I had left is dead now. Dead and gone.

I'm pushed up the ramp to the hovercraft and stumble along blindly. Then I sit in the corner and sob.

This is awful.

I shouldn't have let her go.

It all happened in the flash of an eye.

Then I hear it.

In a voice slightly deeper than I last remember, "Emma?!"

I stand up, looking around. I must be delusional.

Then I see him.

Slightly taller than I remember, and slightly bulkier, but his hair is still the same ginger red and his eyes are the same mossy green.

"JACK!" I scream, and tackle my twin in a hug, crying and screaming in excitement. I don't even know what to feel at this moment.

"EMMA I CAN'T BELIEVE IT'S YOU!" He squeezes the air out of me and I can't wipe the grin off my face, or the tears out of my eyes.

I bury my head in his shoulder, crying both tears of grief and happiness. I'm an emotional wreck at this point.

"I can't believe I found you," he says, grin obvious through his voice.

"Me neither," I croak.

He doesn't let me go for a long time.

I wouldn't want him to.

This is one of the best: yet worst: days of my life.


	11. Lucas, District 2

_**A/N: All of the stories are starting to tie in! Yay for obnoxiously long chapters!**_

**Part 6: Lucas Crawford, District 2**

_Being strong is a bad thing where I come from._

_Ahem, that didn't come out right…_

_Being strong where I come from is practically a plea for more work. _

_And more work is bad. More work is dangerous. _

_People like you when you're strong. You have lots of friends and a ton of authority. _

_And I like authority, I guess… But still, more work is dangerous. I learned it the hard way._

_Well, hold on a second._

_Let's rewind._

_My name is Lucas Crawford. Right now, I'm 18 years old._

_I'm from District 2. _

_I'm tall and blonde and have gray eyes. _

_And I'm strong, apparently. Because I train a good deal. _

_I don't think I'd really like to train. I'd rather be walking outside or something of the sort, because I love nature._

_But the problem is that training is really the only thing there is to do here. There are no schools, except for Academies to train and learn about survival. I'd like to study biology, or especially astronomy, anything but the fine art of the Hunger Games. _

_I will never understand why children killing children is amusing to this damn District. Maybe because it's really a good business opportunity for the factories. _

_I mean, who do you think makes the weapons that are found in the Cornucopia? Who do you think makes the metal sheets for the Cornucopia? _

_We have it well here at District 2. But there are still tons of factories and still tons of work to be done. Whoever said that every single person here trains all day, every day, is wrong. _

_There are poor people here, too. And those people are the workers who make weapons. _

_But, those people are actually paid very well. Because we have great economy here. The Capitol needs us for their Hunger Games or else it would just be some stupid wrestle-fest. _

_And that, my friends, is how District 2 is so close to the Capitol. Tada._

_So, now that the introduction's all over, let me take you through a normal day of my life._

_The sun gracefully rises in a wave of oranges, reds and pinks, and it's so beautiful and easy to see. Not._

_Whatever beautiful picture you had in you heads, take it out right now. Because it's so not true. _

_The sun appears out of absolutely nowhere. It's like… it goes from night to morning in the blink of an eye. _

_So that's the morning. _

_I get up early. Usually around 5:30. _

_Today's no exception. I get up and sit up in bed. Looking out the window I once again see the almost kind of slim traces of sunrise in the sky. _

_Then I get ready to face my day, which doesn't take me very long. _

_After that I head out to the kitchen for some breakfast._

"_Hi Lucas," Mom says. She seems a little sad today. _

"_Mom, you Ok?"_

"_I'm fine," she says, "How are you feeling?"_

"_Good." I finish the banana I'm eating and throw away the peel._

_I hate training. With everything in me. But I do it anyways because I have to._

_If I don't… I'll be a disgrace to my District. So I take a sword from the rack and half-heartedly swing at a dummy. _

_I do that for at least two hours. The Academy is practically empty around this time. _

_Around 8:00 more people start coming in. Groups of friends, happy couples…. I don't have any friends around here. So I hang around and train for a while before giving up and wandering. _

_People used to think I was homeless. _

_They know better now. _

_I walk around my District mindlessly._

_Then I grab some lunch and train some more. _

_This time I use spears instead of swords. And that eats up a couple of hours. _

_Then I wander my way home. _

_I'm lucky. Nobody bullies me. Here at 2 there are two different groups of people: the bullies: a big group of friends who hang out constantly. And the freaks: another big group of friends. I don't fit into either group, so I'm just like that third group. _

_And I hate this time of year because it seems like love's in the air everywhere but around me. I've been seeing couples everywhere. _

_A girl and a guy, two of the girl "freaks," a couple of the bullies… People writing love letters, with flowers and candy… _

_Tonight when I get home, my Mom's not in the living room where she usually is. _

"_Mom?"_

_I run upstairs to her bedroom, "Mom!"_

"_In the kitchen," she says. I run downstairs and she's there. _

"_Sit down." Something's definitely not right. _

_I sit across from her, confused._

_She can't hold in the tears anymore. She cries and I'm left to watch. _

"_Mom! What's wrong with you?"_

"_Lucas," she sobs. _

_I take her hands in mine from across the table. _

"_What's wrong?"_

_Suddenly the door bursts open._

"_Lucas Crawford?" a guy and a girl in white enter the room. _

_Peacekeepers?_

"_What's going on?" I ask, panicking, "I didn't do a damn thing wrong, what's going on?"_

"_Lucas," the woman says, "The Capitol is fresh out of Peacekeepers and you've been selected to take a position."_

_The news is stunning. I never thought it would happen to me… Me of all people…_

_My Mom sobs harder._

_Both of them hold out a hand to me. "You're coming with us."_

_I don't know what else to do. I do as they say. _

_I stand up calmly and say a sad goodbye to my Mom._

"_Love you, Mom…." I whisper, broken, "But maybe I'll find Dad."_

_Then, without a single tear shed or another word said, I turn around and walk out._

* * *

I left it all behind that day. Every single last part of my life.

My Dad was forced to become a Peacekeeper, as well. It was awful. We still don't know where he is.

We are all immediately put on a train and sent to the Capitol to begin our training.

There are about 20 other teens there and I recognize none of them. They're all quiet, some are standing like I am, some are sitting.

The scenery passes by and I stare out the window.

Then I do see someone I recognize. She's sitting, staring out the window opposite from mine.

She has short but straight brownish red hair, with maroon eyes. I know her to be one of the "freaks…" a lesbian, if I remember right.

She's curled up into a ball, head popping up to watch the scenery fly by.

I sit next to her, watching her scenery.

She looks up suddenly. "Um… Hi?"

I have no idea how to react… I haven't really talked to people besides my Mom…

"Hello?" she says, irritated, waving a hand in front of my face.

I blink, still thinking of what kind of greeting would justify my coming and appearing out of nowhere.

"State your business!"

I try to choke out something when she repeats herself, "Try again. State your business."

I think some more, finally coming up with a sentence when she says, with a slight chuckle, "You're something else, do you know that? Are you mute or something?"

"No! No, I'm not mute… I just…"

"Wanted to make friends, eh?"

I nod, "Guess so."

"So… Who are you?"

I should've expected that because I don't talk to a lot of people, but the question throws me for a loop.

"L…Lucas Crawford… District 2."

She laughs ever-so-slightly. "I'm teasing," she says. "My friends and I promised that the first thing we'd ask if you ever opened your damn yap would be _who are you._ Seems a little dumb now…"

I shrug, "Whatever."

"Do you know me?"

"Your name's something like… Um…"

She waits as I stumble on words.

"Rouge, right?"

She nods, "Another word for the color red." She bites her lip, drawing my attention to her red lipstick.

"Right. So you didn't know about this either, I'm guessing."

"We got the enlistment letter this morning. My whole family was devastated."

"What about your friends?"

She shrugs, biting her lip again, but this time I think it's out of guilt. "I didn't really tell them."

"Oh." I nod, even though I don't really understand.

"Don't think they're gonna be so thrilled when they find out."

"I don't think they'll care. As long as you can shoot a gun 'nd stuff."

"Words of such wisdom," she says sarcastically.

I laugh slightly, something that I'm glad I can do. "I'm a pretty wise person."

"So they say."

"Who?"

"A couple of my friends. Had little crushes on you at periods of time. The only nice kid who isn't creepy."

"But… You're friends with boys, mostly…."

She shrugs, rolling her eyes, "Well duh. Aren't you observant?"

The thought of gay guys crushing on me is a little unsettling.

I shrug, "Um… Right."

She laughs, "Not used to us, are ya?"

I nod slowly.

The train screeches to a stop at District One.

"I hope I get assigned to District Two," she says thoughtfully, "Or One…"

"Guess it all depends…"

She shrugs, "I guess. Just saying, it'd be nice."

I nod.

The train lurches forward again and we are suddenly engulfed in darkness on our way to wherever the hell we're going.

I can't see Rouge but I hear her among the quiet whispering. "I can't believe they took us," she squeaks. "That they took me. From my family… From the girl I loved…"

"That sucks."

"Sucks is an understatement," she says sadly.

I nod. "Yeah…"

We sit in silence for the rest of the ride.

* * *

Training was a long and hard process. It made me even stronger than I was before, though.

Rouge changed from the sad girl I knew before to a strong, determined, angry beast of a girl.

And that's dangerous.

It's the last day of training and before we gather, Rouge finally seems like herself.

"What if I get to go to 2?" She asks, "We could get home, Lucas!"

"We could, couldn't we?" I think of my Mom. I could see her again. Still live in my house… And bear authority… I smile.

"That'd be so great," she says, grinning.

"So so great!"

She grins and takes my hand in hers, and we walk to our post together.

Our trainer stands in front of us, a clipboard in her hands.

"Today, Peacekeepers, you get your District Assignments!" her expression remains as hard as stone.

"You will find out today where you will be assigned, and each of you will get a ten-minute-phone call to any person of your choosing. Then you will all be shipped off to assume your positions."

We all stand at firm attention like we're supposed to.

She starts at the end of the line opposite to ours. That means Rouge will be last.

"Aaron Wilder! Home District: Capitol. Assignment…" she pauses a second to build suspense. The kid looks like he's going to pee his pants he's so nervous and excited. "District 1."

He smiles immediately and exhales the breath he was holding.

"Next…."

She goes through the line of people, all ranging in age from 18 to about 30.

"Patrick Stevens. Home District: 2. Assignment… District 6."

"Michael Pierce. Home District: 1. Assignment… District 4."

The room fills with _ooooooooo_'s and _aaaaahhhhh_'s of the jealous recruits.

"Alden-James Hudson."

"It's AJ!" he interjects.

"Home District," she continues with a glare, "One. Assignment…. District 7."

And so it goes on, until she finally gets to me. I'm ready to burst with terrible nervousness and excitement.

"Lucas Crawford."

I bounce on my feet, excited, even though we're technically not supposed to.

"Home District…2."

I say it with her in my head. I already know this.

Now for the part I don't know. I close my eyes, hoping for her to say District 2.

"Assignment…."

She seems to pause FOREVER. I'm not sure if it's just because I look like an afraid, nervous puppy, or if it's the same amount of time she used for everyone and it just _seems _like forever.

"District 7."

District 7.

District Seven.

District Three plus Four. District Five plus Two, District Ten minus Three, District 7.

My Dad's in District 11. My Mom's in District 2. I'm not going to see either of them in a long time.

But District 7 doesn't seem so bad. There's lots of nature, lots of trees. I like that. I could live with that.

Then I zone back in to hear Rouge's District.

Part of me hopes it's 7 as well.

Part of me hopes it's 2. She could pass messages on to my family, and she at least could be happy at home with her family.

"Rouge Beauregard."

Her eyes dart around nervously.

"Home District: 2."

She gulps, keeping her chin up.

"Assignment…."

Rouge is trying not to be afraid.

"District 12."

Everyone nods sympathetically.

Absolutely nobody wants to go to 12. The farthest away from anyone they knew. And Rouge was the only one.

"Aaron. You get to call first." She says, taking him back with her.

"District…." She chokes out the words, "Twelve…"

The most starving, run-down, beat-up place in the world. And Rouge has to go there. Alone.

"I'm so sorry…" I whisper.

"I'm fine," she finally says, "I'm fine. I'll just… Go to District 12 and catch bad guys…"

But she accepts my hug. And she blinks away tears.

She whispers in my ear, so quietly nobody can hear, "Oh, Lucas… What am I gonna do?"

"You'll find someone in 12, that's what… You found someone here."

"But…" her words are cut off by sobs. Muffled in my shoulder.

"I… I'll make this right."

No response. Just sobs.

"Patrick! Phone call."

I rub her back, "We'll get out of this."

"How?" she finally choke out, "I'll never see them again. None of them."

"I'll get you there."

She nods quietly.

We sit in silence until it's my turn to make the phone call.

"Sit tight."

I walk to the room and pick up the receiver.

I shakily press the numbers and hear my mom's voice.

"Lucas?"

"Mom," I say, suddenly feeling even number than with Rouge.

"Lucas!"

"I'm going to District 7."

"7?"

"Yes. But we might be able to see each other again someday."

She's crying again. I can tell.

"Oh, Lucas!"

"I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, dear," she whispers, tears in her voice.

"I'll never forget where I came from. Don't forget me, or dad. Please."

"I won't… I swear…" she chokes out.

"Time's up! Say your goodbyes!"

"I have to go now. I love you so much," I say, and my Mom sobs.

"Lucas! Please! Don't go for real! Don't go forever!"

But they make me hang up on her.

And that's it.

* * *

Rouge is more herself on the train. Guess she said whatever she needed to say in her phone call.

"Can't believe I'm going to District 12," she says, clearly broken.

"Me neither," making a joke is risky, but she appreciates it a little.

"You're not so bad, Crawford."

"Thanks. You're a lot more awesome than I thought."

She manages a smile.

Then I get a tablet and write to her. _We're getting out of here. _

She looks at it and writes back, _How?_

_You escape. I escape. We run away together. _

_You really think that'll work._

She says out loud, "Idiot."

_I'm serious. Give me a week. Then sneak out of your District. Hopefully I'll be near enough to find you. But if not we need a signal._

She clicks and whistles like a bird. I impersonate her.

_Good that?_

_Good that. _

We rip the paper off the tablet and I rip it.

"You don't have to be so rageful," she says naturally, "I just beat you at Tic-Tac-Toe."

I try not to crack a smile. "Well you shouldn't have!"

"I cornered you."

I sigh, rolling my eyes naturally.

She smiles sweetly.

"Now stopping at District 6!"

They read off the list of names.

"Next stop, District 7! Should be around 15-20 minutes, so be prepared."

Rouge squeaks, and throws her arms around my neck. We hug the whole rest of the way to my new District. She buries her face in my shoulder. I do everything in my power not to cry.

"Now arriving in District 7!" it seems too soon.

"Lucas Crawford, AJ Hudson…"

"So this is goodbye," I say.

"It is…" she says, struggling to hold back tears.

I hug her one last time and whisper quietly, "Give me a week."

Then I give her a nod and she smiles through tears, nodding back. Then I walk out of the train to my new District: but not for long.

"Wow," AJ says, amazed at the trees, "Look at this place!"

"It's sure interesting, ain't it?" another boy asks.

"For sure…"

We all walk around, in those itchy uniforms, looking at the people.

There's one that catches my eye. I'm not sure if it's because she's the only one there with long hair, or…

Wow, she's pretty.

She looks exhausted, though. Tired and a little grouchy.

"Lucas!" AJ snaps me out of my confusion.

"Hunh? Oh, um, sorry…"

"Come on. Walk forward."

I stumble after them.

* * *

That night, I gather supplies for my big escape.

That girl flashes before my eyes almost every time I blink. I can barely stop thinking about her.

I can't keep thinking of her… I need to focus. Escape tonight. Find Rouge.

I sneak quietly out of our new hut. I couldn't sleep there, anyways. The woods is confusing, even with a flashlight, but I swallow my fear and walk until I hear the hum of electricity.

A fence. Now the second hard part. Finding an opening.

Then I hear footsteps. I turn around and that girl is there. From before. I'm almost positive.

"You want out, too?" she asked, stepping towards me. Her voice is a lot different than I imagined it to sound.

I think. How should I answer this?

"Tell me about it," she mutters sarcastically upon my lack of response.

"Do you know how to get out?"

She scoffs, "Do I know how to get out?" She laughs slightly, "Of course. It was also how I got in."

"You got in?"

"I'm from District 8," she confesses, "And I left my twin brother behind."

"Why'd you leave?"

She sniffles, a tear rolling down her face, "It's…"

"Never mind," I say quickly, "Doesn't matter."

She nods thankfully.

"So you're leaving?"

"Plan to."

"What's your name?" she asks quietly, then adds a giggle, "So I can deny everything they ask about you."

I smile, "Lucas. You?"

"I'm Emma," she whispers, reaching out to shake my hand.

I take it.

She suddenly pulls back. "You're a Peacekeeper," she whispers, shocked.

"I was forced," I whisper quickly, and all fear flies out of her.

"You were?"

"I was. How could you tell?"

"My District is all about making fabric. I know these things."

I smile, "You're a smart cookie."

"Thanks. So you really have to go, eh? I think I could've liked you."

"I think I could've liked you, too. Eh, I'll be back. Possibly."

"Ok. If you meet someone with ginger hair and green eyes, tell him Emma said hi. His name is Jack. He's a huge jokester."

I nod, "I'll make sure to keep a lookout."

"Thanks." She stands on her tiptoes to kiss my cheek, "Good luck."

I feel my temperature rising and a blush forming on my face and down my neck. "Th…Thanks."

Then I get on my hands and knees and use my flashlight to illuminate the hole in the fence. Then I crawl through.

* * *

After a week of passing fences, trekking and sleeping, I come up to the fence that's hopefully from District 12. I immediately click and make bird noises, still thinking of Emma, but ready to see Rouge again.

I keep clicking for at least an hour, and start to panic.

_What if I'm in the wrong place?_

_What if she's blowing me off?_

_What if-_

I hear footsteps.

I'm tackled and my affectionate friend hugs me and sobs.

"Rouge! You're-"

"I can't believe I did it!" she cries.

"Did what?"

"I… I… I…"

"You?"

"I was on duty…" she says, then gasps for air, "And there was this guy," she gasps again, "And I caused it!"

"Caused what?"

She puts both hands on my shoulders, forcing me to look into her eyes.

"Sixty… Whippings… Lucas. _Sixty."_

"Sixty?!" I ask, surprised.

"SIXTY!" she said, "AND HIS WHOLE FAMILY WAS WATCHING! THE POOR GUY WAS PRACTICALLY DEAD! AND IT'S ALL MY FAULT!"

"Oh Rouge…"

She whispers in my ear, "They threatened me, Lucas. They threatened me that if I didn't turn in someone that they'd shoot me. I had to! But now I just feel awful," she says.

"Come on," I say quietly, "Let's go…"

I start walking and she follows, still crying.

We walk for the day and stop at night.

The next day, we keep walking. Suddenly, we hear a loud noise.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?"

"Sh!" I say, pushing her along. I hide in a bush. She hides next to me.

Suddenly, when I look up, a metal thing is flying down at us. "ROUGE!"

I roll out of the way and look over.

She's impaled.

And her body's going back up to that hovercraft.

I get up and run. I run as fast as I can in the other direction, not stopping to listen for the small explosion that I hear.

Then I run into a completely barren area and see a person there.

"He made it!" the boy says, flailing a camera around, "He made it!"

"The girl?" another boy appears beside him.

"No… But the boy made it!"

"Come on." The dark-haired boy takes me by the shoulders and takes me inside.

But it was the other boy that caught my attention.

Tall, thin, ginger hair and green eyes.

_Can't be. It can't be. Just a coincidence. _

"I'm Rizzo. This is-"

"Call me Jax now. I just don't like how Jack sounds in a high-tech place like this."

And I grin and realize, _It's him._

**FATE**

_Lucas made it to District 13 and gave Jack the knowledge that Emma was alive and well. It was one of the only things that kept Jack sane throughout the revolution. Lucas was right: he did see Emma again. They reunited and fell in love after the revolution was over. Just not where everyone thought… But, that's another story. He became a general for District 13 and never forgot Rouge, his best friend who helped him through. _


	12. Rudi, District 4

Part 7: Rudi Benkhart, District 4

Bisexual.

Daughter of a couple of potheads.

Smoker.

Idiot.

Drinker.

Flunkie.

Dropout.

Freak.

Desperate.

All words I've heard before. All words to describe me.

My name's Rudi Benkhart. When you're surrounded by all those bad influences, you get used to them.

But, even in the District of jackasses, there are still a couple of half-decent people.

I met him in pre-school.

That was before I was stupid.

He had his perfect little outfit that was brand new and matched, from his brown hair and sea-green eyes to his brand new tennis shoes.

I had the same old beanie that I wear now, with a tattered hand-me-down-from-the-dump outfit and old shoes that my toes stuck out of.

Even the kids back then were ruthless to me. Jeering constantly and making faces.

So there was this one really obnoxious kid named Jason Mallinksy. I hated his guts.

So I did what any badass five-year-old would do to someone they hated: I flung mashed potatoes at him with my spoon.

I had perfect aim, too. Until he ran right into my shot and took a full face of potatoes.

Ok, I wasn't sorry. I'm never sorry for stuff like that.

I just laughed.

I laughed so hard apple juice came out of my nose. I rolled around on the ground laughing.

"That was mean!" he said, pissed off.

I remember just standing up and saying, "You're my new best friend. What's your name?"

Sebastion Lewis Clarke.

He's been my best friend since, just like I said.

Because the mashed potatoes never lie. He's the only person that's stuck to my side through the teasing.

Well…

Finn came a little later.

Not much later, though.

The next year is when we met Finn. He was a year younger than Sebastion and I, so he went to the same Pre-School as us. Our second year, his first. He stuck out to us the very first day. He also got shoved down a flight of stairs.

By who, you ask?

A bitch named Sabrina Wilson. And she doesn't go away, either.

Anyways, Finn pushed down the stairs. He said he was fine, but later it was revealed that his leg was broken in three different places.

Ok, when I was five, I thought he was some kind of god of bad-assery because he had three fucking fractures in his leg and didn't even know.

So I kind of worshipped the kid.

He later told me that since he's paralyzed, he can't even feel his legs. So I could poke them all I wanted but he'd never be able to feel it.

I was close to Finn. Never as close as I was to Sebastion, but I was close to Finn.

I liked Finn. We went from best friends, to more, to worst enemies (which didn't last a very long time) to best friends again.

I've never dated Sebastion before… And I'm glad because 1) He's ugly as a doormat and 2) He's my best friend.

Ok, I say mean things about him, but I don't mean half of them. It's just so fun to piss him off.

Sebastion's not hideous, he's actually quite a looker with quite an impressive six-pack.

But I'll never say it out loud.

For the most part, Sebastion, Finn and I have been a dream team since we were young. A freakshow, if you will.

Well, Sebastion was never a freak. He was always popular.

All the girls wanted to fuck him.

And he let them, too.

He's a manwhore, but anyways, he always stuck to me and I stuck to him.

We hang out every day behind the dumpster.

I offer him a smoke, but he never takes one: at first I had this crazy obsession with Sebastion doing something bad for once: besides the normal sex hair and bags under his eyes. It escalated to just a joke after that: a dumb tradition that none of us would want to break.

I offered Finn a cigarette once.

Seeing Finn smoke is one of the hottest yet most hilarious sights I've ever seen.

One: you would totally not expect him to be a smoker. He's a real goody-goody, and in a wheelchair!

Two: He actually does have muscles. You can feel them or see them if he's wearing a muscle shirt, which he's only ever done once or twice, for gym.

Anyways, let's just say a muscle shirt is the only thing that can make Finn look manly as he's hunched over, vomiting.

Goody-goody.

So you could say I was happy by the 80th reaping. I had my buds, my cigarettes, and my sexuality intact.

"Hi Benkhart," Sebastion says, walking over and sitting across from me on his normal pile of trash.

"Sebster," I say with a slight hint at a smile, "Wanna a cigarette or not?"

"You know I don't smoke." We both laugh slightly.

"So, what's going through your head?" Sebastion asks.

"Right now?" I think. "Absolutely nothing. The cigarette is magic. You?"

He sighs, "Pre-reaping jitters," he confesses.

"Obviously. Try one. It'll take you away, I promise."

"Not happening."

"Whatever floats your boat."

"That's a terrible stereotype, Benkhart."

I can't help but laugh. "Don't worry, Clarke. If you're reaped, you'll die at the Cornucopia."

"You'll die before the Cornucopia," he says. It's nice to let off some of his steam.

I grin. It's so fun to play with Sebastion.

"Come on. Let's get to the reapings."

He stands up, holding out a hand to me.

"I don't need your help, Clarke." I stand up on my own, to make a point.

Then we walk to the square together.

The female tribute isn't me. Woo.

The male is chosen and everyone waits.

"Finn Fletcher!"

* * *

I miss Finn.

You know the worst part?

He died in second place.

To a District 2 girl.

By eating nightlock.

My heart exploded into a million pieces. I can't believe he lost. I can't believe he gave his life for her… She certainly didn't deserve it. Finn should be alive.

Sabrina had a field day.

I punched the girl in the nose.

I miss Finn with everything in me. When he died, he took a chunk of my heart with him.

The next year, I don't want to play by their rules.

When Sebastion heads off to the reapings, I don't go with him.

I'm sitting back in the dumpster when the men in white come and take me away.

The reapings are over. I'm put up on the stage and whipped 45 times.

I shout for help.

It's only after the reapings, and I discover that my worst fear has come true: Sebastion is reaped.

No… I don't have fears… I'm fearless.

What I'm really scared to watch is Sebastion eat nightlock. I think I would eat nightlock.

I need to have him with me. Finn is gone. My best friend is gone.

Sebastion is the only thing I have left. I can't lose him, too.

I will kill the Victor, whoever they are. Unless they are named Sebastion Clarke, of course.

Pit Kensy is the District 2 girl who killed Finn.

She didn't touch a hair on his body, but I pin her death absolutely 100% on her. No questions.

And if that gal pal of hers lays a finger on my best friend, she dies.

By me, of course.

If not by anyone else.

I sit in my room. The only place in my place that's safe.

If Sebastion asks, I'm not scared. I'm out at the dumpster, not giving a damn about it.

But I sit here, in my room, in the dark.

5…

4…

3…

2…

1.

The 81st Hunger Games has begun.

**FATE: **

Upon the rebellion's beginning, Rudi among others is saved by District 13 and sent to train. Their PT instructor, a tall guy with a strong frame, dark hair and brown eyes named Rizzo, connects with her instantly. They survive the rebellion together and eventually move in together at District 4.

TO LEARN MORE ABOUT SEBASTION, read 81: The Ultimate Show.

TO LEARN MORE ABOUT FINN AND PIT, read Memories: the 80th Hunger Games.


	13. Tarrick, District 10

**PART 8: TARRICK TAILOR, DISTRICT 10**

"_TAILOR!" _

"_TAILOR!"_

"_**TAILOR!" **_

_My eyes open lazily. _

"_WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?"_

"_I...I…"_

_My step-sister Jane stares at me, "You're a fucking idiot."_

"_Huh?" I sit up and rub my eyes. _

"_Why?"_

"_Why what?"_

"_Why did you say something? I told you to keep your fucking mouth SHUT!"_

"_It's my life. Not yours."_

"_You idiot."_

"_Why? What happened?" I ask, voice deep from sleep. _

"_Everyone knows! You fucking-"_

"_Yeah, yeah, I get it. I'm a fucking idiot. Get on with it."_

"_They're all up in arms! You're the biggest loser-face in the WHOLE SCHOOL!" _

"_But… I only told one person…And…"_

_She slaps me upside the head. "LISTEN UP! I TOLD YOU TO KEEP YOUR PLACE AND NEVER SAY A WORD TO ANYONE! I KNEW I HATED YOU AS SOON AS MY FATHER MARRIED YOUR FUCKING MOTHER!"_

"_Jane…. "_

"_I'M THE FAGGOT SISTER! ALL BECAUSE YOU CAN'T LISTEN TO A DUMB COMMAND FROM YOUR STEP-SISTER!"_

_I roll my eyes and clear my throat. "So I'm gay. What's even the big deal, anyways?"_

_It's then that I see murderous eyes looking at me from the doorway. _

_I recognize the death-glare of my mom. _

"_Out."_

"_Huh?" _

"_Out."_

"_Out?"_

"_OUT!" _

_I rub my eyes and slowly stand up, "I'm still-"_

"_Honey," my step-dad whispers. _

_My Mom's face is red with rage. "GET OUT OF MY HOUSE! NOW!"_

_Jane looks thrilled at seeing me get yelled at, which I'm used to. She's the cruel little sister, even though she's only a year younger than I am. _

"_What's going on?" my little step-brother Grayson stumbles into the room and looks around. _

"_You're too young to get it, buddy," I whisper. _

"_Am not-"_

"_Tarrick was just leaving," Jane croons, "For good!"_

_His eyes are confused. _

"_It might be a while before we can talk again, buddy," I whisper to him. _

_Suddenly my strong mother grasps the back of my shirt and practically chokes me. _

"_I SAID TO GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" my Mom screams, dragging me by now. _

"_TARRICK!" Grayson shouts, "WHERE ARE YOU GOING!?"_

_I hear the footsteps of him following me and a slight choking noise coming from him. _

"_He's not a good guy, Gray. You've been tricked," Jane whispers. _

* * *

I was 12 then.

Is 12 a little young to make a decision like that? Well, it's too late now.

Jane was 11 then, about to turn 12 soon. And Grayson was young, only 6.

To think that my own birthmother would send me out on the street at 12 years old… It really makes me lose faith in humanity. Which, trust me, a lot of things do.

My name is Tarrick Tailor. Back when my Mom loved me she would always nag me to change my last name to Bates, my step-dad's name, but I never wanted to. I realized quickly that I love the man, and had intended to officially go by Bates on my 13th birthday.

When I did turn thirteen (somewhere in the long days and nights I spent on the corner) I just couldn't. I don't want to humiliate the man any more than he already is.

I'm 16 now. I sit on the corner and wait for change.

There were better times. Happier times….

When I was a kid there was no such thing as a good hair day. I have dark red hair that comes from my Mom and it always always ALWAYS stood out in every direction. I have this white… Oh, what's it called… Stetson, I think… Anyways, it usually covers up my awful hair, so that's good.

I'm a major clutz. I'm always tripping on my own feet, stumbling on a loose twig, anything that could possibly be tripped on: I trip on. Possibly even more.

I have green eyes that don't show a lot of emotion. They're…Um… Just calm, I guess. Dull. Boring.

I have a husky voice, that's laced with the ever-so-slightest Capitol accent: my Mom has never said a thing about my birthfather but it leads me to assume that he was a Peacekeeper or something of the sort.

That accent is only obvious on certain words: my vowel sounds are sometimes strange, my _s_ sounds sometimes come out more like _sh_.

It was just another thing that my Mom hated about me from the beginning.

I hate the woman as much as she hates me: which is a lot.

* * *

_I met Astro when I was 13 or 14. He was a freak, just like me._

_A strong Australian shepherd, Astro was a very loving puppy. His left eye is brown, right blue, and he always greets you with a wagging tail. _

_His coat is the most beautiful black, and the hair gets all over you but I still love it. _

_Harley came a little later. I think I was 17 when she came around. A fat beagle puppy, but that would soon change considering there's nothing to eat out here except whatever scraps you find around. _

_She was a scared puppy, mostly scared of Astro, but she's a little beagle ball of energy when she warms up. _

* * *

We were all the freaks together. The dogs soon became my best friends, and stuck by my side no matter what. I will always love them for that.

Time flies and I can't believe I've stayed alive this long. I can't believe I wasn't reaped, I wasn't starved…. The dogs are still alive and well but I can see them slowly dying.

I can actually get a job now… Or at least try. I get put to work cleaning stables, and, while I admit that it's a very unpleasant job, I'm more well-fed than I've ever been.

"Hey, SHITBOY!" Jane shouts, "SHITBOY!"

Grayson soon joins her. He's grown up, 14 now.

"SHITBOY! COME ON OVER HERE!"

I never thought he'd give in.

"HEY SHITBOY! WE HAVE A MESS OVER HERE FOR YOU!"

I growl, walking over to my step-siblings as they cackle. I shovel it up and keep my eyes focused on the ground, humiliated.

"YOU ARE HILARIOUS, SHITBOY!" Jane shouts, "TOO BAD YOU'RE TOO FREAKY TO HAVE YOUR OWN HORSE!" she and Grayson laugh, high-fiving and galloping away.

* * *

The nickname Shitboy sticks, and soon that's what I'm known as all day every day.

And it's just another stupid day in District 10 when I hear noises.

"THEY'RE HERE!"

_Who's they? _

Suddenly I hear a gunshot. A whirlwind of them.

"THE REBELS ARE HERE! EVERYONE, GRAB A HORSE!"

I look around, disoriented. I feel a snout tap my hand and seize the opportunity to saddle up, even though I probably shouldn't.

I recognize the horse to be Ginger, and she runs as soon as I dig my heel in her side.

I hear shouting and shooting and soon my vision is clouded by smoke. Ginger doesn't stop. Suddenly I feel a finger brushing against my leg and stop the horse.

"Get on!" I shout to whoever's on the ground, praying it's not a Peacekeeper.

A foot awkwardly climbs in the stirrup. Whoever it is will end up taking too long, getting us killed.

I swallow hard and squeeze my eyes shut, shouting down, "G…Grab my waist! Grab my waist for support and get on!"

"Are you sure?" it's a he, I know it for sure now, and he sounds just as weirded out as I am.

"If you don't we're gonna die!"

I feel his strong hands grab on and he hoists himself up. Chills run up my spine.

"Come on," I whisper to Ginger, and she takes off. The boy behind me screams, squeezing my shoulders for balance.

"HOLD ON!" I scream to him.

"DUCK!" he screams and I do as he says. I think he has a gun.

I hear gunshots behind me and know it's true.

We both scream like crazy people.

I don't know how long this goes on, but it has to be a while because I begin to feel tired.

The gunshots slow and then finally stop.

Soon the smoke clears and I climb off the horses, spurs jingling.

I hold out my hand and see mystery man for the first time.

He is… He's…He's…

He takes my hand and slides down off the horse. He lands at my feet.

I see his lips moving.

His beautiful green eyes smile at me. And he grins at me expectantly.

I didn't even hear a word that came out of his mouth.

I shake my head and blink, "What?"

He laughs, "My name is Jax. I'm from District 13. You are…?"

"Tailor." Then I add quickly, "Tarrick…Tailor… My first name is Tarrick."

He smiles. "Nice to meet you, Tarrick."

I realize his hand is outstretched. I feel so awkward as I reach out and take it.

A boy with dark hair and brown eyes shouts, "We're not gonna get out of here tonight! You all need to find somewhere to stay!

"Thanks for the horse," Jax says flipping his video camera open.

"Huh? Oh, um… Any time."

He smiles.

* * *

"Well, I have to put Ginger back in the stable…" I mutter.

"Let me come with you!" he says.

"Oh, um… You…You don't understand…"

He frowns.

"I'm… I'm just the shit boy," I say quietly, "That was kicked out by his parents when he was a kid."

He takes me by the shoulder. "Let me be your fairy godmother," he whispers.

I slowly turn around and look at him. "Why?"

"My own sister is currently ignoring me…I know how you feel…"

"She is? Why?"

"'S not important," he says quietly.

I nod, understanding the feeling. Then I turn around again and when I walk, he follows me.

"Come to 13 with me, Tarrick," he finally says.

"What?" I ask.

"Please. You saved my life…Let me save yours."

It's a big request.

"That's very…Sweet…Of you…"

Ginger walks with me and Jax keeps up.

"Don't you want out of here?"

"I guess…Maybe…"

"Let me take you." He smiles, beautiful green eyes lighting up hopefully.

"I guess." I sit on the corner, against a wood building.

Harley and Astro run over, Harley yipping and jumping up on Jax's legs.

Astro runs in circles around my ankles first, until I fall over. Then he bolts to Jax and does the same thing until he sits next to me.

"This is where you live?"

"Gets me by," I say as Astro and Harley sit next to me.

"Nobody should live like this," he says in a whisper.

"Well I do. And I live just fine…"

"You have a bit of an accent," he whispers.

"So I do. I'll never know why."

"Well you're not sleeping alone tonight," he whispers.

"I have the dogs…"

"They're sweet. But you need to know that there are human beings that care about you."

"There aren't."

"Well there is now."

A smile finds its way across my face.

The sun sets and Astro and Harley each curl up to one side of me.

I whisper, "Good night."

"Night…" he whispers back, even though neither of us closes our eyes.

* * *

"Hey Tarrick," he whispers.

"Hey Jax," I whisper back.

"Is it wrong to be in love with guys and girls?"

"To the world, yes."

"Oh… Right…"

"But to the ones that really matter… No."

"But my sister means the world to me! She's the only person I can say I love with everything in me. And she doesn't like it…."

"Why wouldn't she? If she loved you she'd accept you."

"She does love me… She thinks it's protecting me…"

"Why would it be protecting you?"

The stars are out now, the cold of night starting to settle in.

"A couple of gays did some pretty nasty stuff to us when we were kids… Guess it all just scarred her a little… She refuses to talk to any gays now…"

"That's terrible. They're not all bad."

"I know what you mean."

"I am."

He shifts a little. "Huh?"

"I am," I repeat, a little more confident, "I'm one of them."

He doesn't say anything for a long second.

Instead he reaches out and takes my hand. He runs his pointer finger up my rough knuckle.

"I'm sorry this happened to you. But you're gonna meet some awesome people in 13."

"You think?"

"I know. Geno, Tanner, Ben, Lucas, Rizzo, Rudi, Willow, Vick, Athena, Theo, Waverly, Finnick, Annie, Marley, Pit and Nikko… Even Santana's getting better! And then there are the Victors of the 81st Games… They're all so sweet… And…" he pauses, "There's a girl that I'm so head over heels for…. She's beautiful, brilliant, and so strong… She's great."

I swallow hard and nod, "Yeah. She's lucky."

"She doesn't notice me. Well, she kind of does, but just as a best friend…."

"Yeah. You…You have a great chance…"

"Thanks. It means a lot, even though you don't really know me that well. I like to think I'll have a chance someday."

"Yeah."

The breeze blows and I shiver slightly. I'm used to this, but poor Jax looks like he's in Antarctica.

"Hey Tarrick… You still awake?"

"'Course." I squeeze the hand he's still holding.

"Have you ever felt homesick in your life? You probably haven't-"

"No, no, I have." I stare up at the sky, trying to organize the emotions that are building in my gut.

"I am. Right now. All I want is to be back home. But I'll never get there…"

"You will someday. 13 isn't too-"

"I'm not from 13," he says, grip on my hand so tight that I can barely feel my hand. Not like I care.

"You're an escapee?"

"I miss it so bad. I had to change everything when I got here… Even my name…"

"Your name's not really Jax?" I ask thoughtfully. He slightly loosens his grip to move his fingers up my knuckles again.

"It's not. It's Jack. Jack Hourner."

"I see. Did you change your last name, too?"

"Never really thought about it. Emma hasn't changed hers at all… I guess I just want to try to be someone different…."

"You need to be you."

"But I can't change back now… My past is gone."

"If you say. But if I were you I'd hold on to some of it." It's my turn to tighten my grip on his hand.

"What do you mean?"

"It could help you. You can't just forget…You can't keep running away forever. Just a chunk."

He thinks, fingers going up and down my knuckles still. Suddenly he says, "Call me by my last name."

"Huh?"

"Would you?"

"Sure…"

"Major Theramin does it already… But I want to hear it constantly… Just hearing it reminds me of my past…."

"Ok. I'll call you Hourner from now on."

He gives my hand a quick squeeze, "Thank you Tarrick."

I shrug, "Nah. Thank you… Hourner."

He smiles and strokes my knuckles until I doze off to sleep. The girl he's in love with doesn't leave my mind. I'm sure she's wonderful.

Probably better than me in every way.

I should just give up on loving him before it even starts. Then he'll never hurt me.

But I think it's started already.


	14. Ike, The Capitol

**PART NINE: Ike Villanueva, Capitol**

The Capitol is very two-faced. In a lot of different ways.

First off is, of course, our treatment of the Districts. And everyone knows it, but nobody seems to care. I feel like I'm the only one that gives a damn about any of them.

There are two Capitol lifestyles, if you look at it.

The first is the usual. The happy, hilarious, WOW LOOK AT THAT PRETTY FLYING PONY IN THE SKY kind of life. And that's how it usually is around here. They may be controlled by the government, but hey, they're getting their shiny objects, so why does it matter, anyways?

They're wasteful; using whatever the hell they want and pitching the rest of it. And they like it that way. They shrug off the Districts like they're just the dirty flies on their prissy pink poodles, to sum it all up. They're the ones that constantly look in the mirror and feel dissatisfied, the people that constantly change their colors every Thursday, the people that gather in the Square to watch the Hunger Games and bet on the tributes… These people have the attention-spans of goldfish but seem to enjoy the life they're living.

Then there's the other group: me.

Well, Ok, being logical, there have gotta be others around somewhere that feel the same way as I do. But I'm the only one around here.

I won't tell you that I don't indulge myself. I do sometimes. But I'll tell you that life in my household isn't easy. Never was, never will be. I can't wait to move out.

Don't get me wrong… I like to be smart, l like to have knowledge… But I wish I could be so happy like them. They have fun every day. And I know that fun isn't right… It's a little sick… Certainly cruel… But they're happy. I'm lucky to crack a smile all day. I usually do, though. I like to smile.

Then you have my sister Santana. She's dark, like me, but clever. Always with every terrible intention, yes, but smart at least. She's sneaky… She has a ton of tricks under her sleeve for getting what she wants. Her main colors are red and black, like a checkerboard.

Me? I prefer navy. Not just a navy… A dark, practically black navy. It's the color of the contacts in my eyes, the color I put in my hair, the color of my baggy jeans…. It's even the color of the guy-liner I put on, and sometimes eye shadow if my parents are out to get me to socially interact with the idiots.

I've never enjoyed life in the Capitol. And I know it sounds whiny… Because any of the District people would kill to have a life like mine. Food on my platter every day, freedom to learn (or shop) and play games all day long as opposed to working. And, though I have to dodge a swing every once in a while, I suppose I should be grateful for the stuff I do have.

The problem is that my parents can be sluggers. And I wish I could tell you I was talking about baseball. Which, they're not too bad at, actually.

And Santana is a strong one. She fought back once and they laid off her. I'm not strong enough to do it, so I just run away when it happens like the coward I am.

They figure that I'm depressed… I think everyone does. And, yeah, I guess you could say that. And I don't want to be depressed because I know how lucky I am to be here. To be me.

But there's still a heavy backpack of guilt that I carry every time I see a piece of fruit or grain or every time I feel like watching TV. Because I know the work that comes to making it. So if I get an apple with a spot on it, I see a little girl working so hard to climb up a tree to get it for me. So I eat around the spot.

They all think I have some mental problem. And I've been offered meds ten different times by ten different adults. But I never want meds. Because there's a part of me that doesn't want to be happy. Ever.

Santana is my parents' little girl. She's the perfect one. They worship the ground she walks on, they hold the doors open for her and practically carry her around on a leather chair. Then they slam the door on my face and step all over me. I'm not the kid they wanted, and I guess she is. My sister's applying for the Head Gamemaker position, of course they love her. I'm more like an afterthought.

But I'm not a mindless monkey, so I can deal with the lack of attention on me all the time. I don't really care for the bad attention, but you live, and you carry on, because there will always be someone that has it worse than you, right?

I mean, while my Mom's slamming me for wearing a baggy black hoody, there's someone in District 8 whose fingers are bleeding from making it. And if I could tell them that it has a good home with me, I would.

And, while my Mom's denying me seconds, there's someone on the streets, wishing for firsts.

I often wish I could be one of them. I wish I could _save_ one of them. Put them in my shoes, take a walk in theirs. If they even have shoes… I shudder at the thought.

Why should I be so unhappy here when someone could be happy?

I dwell on the subject a lot: it makes for a good number of sleepless nights. Not like I want sleep, anyways.

I feel so two-faced right now. Part of me has the personality that I should suck it up and appreciate life. Part of me wants to end life.

My eyes go wide for a second. I've never said those two words together before. Well, not pertaining to myself, anyways.

_I'm just tired, _I think, _Just a good night's sleep and the thoughts will go away._

* * *

I toss and turn, and when I finally close my eyes I'm transported to a dream-state that makes me feel like I'm still half-awake as the events unfold in front of my eyes.

But, while that's happening, my mind, my essence, in the dream, is fully awake. All at once.

I'm holding a pair of strong hands, surrounded by nothing but darkness. Above, beside, and even… Below.

"Wh…Who are you!?" the guy who's holding on to me seems just as startled as I am.

"Who are you!?" I quiz.

I look up. I don't see a lot of the person I'm trusting. The only prominent thing I can notice is the glint of a miner's helmet and a pair of the most luminescent yellow eyes I've ever seen.

The breath is knocked out of me, I blink and stutter like an idiot, "I-I-Ike… Th-That's my name…"

"Why are you here, Ike?" he asks.

"Why am I here!?" I ask, finally getting a handle on things.

"Dunno. But I do know this. Let go of me and you die."

Without thinking I unlock my fingers from his and start to fall. But he catches me mid-tumble, squeezing the lights out of my left hand. Then he takes my right again.

"You're not leaving so easily," he says quietly.

"Why not?!"

"Because I want answers. You seem like you have answers."

"Well I don't," I mutter.

There's a brief pause before he speaks.

"My name's Sylvester," he says, "I'm from District 12."

"I…I could tell…."

"Then you can't be a Capitolite."

"I'm different from them!"

"Are you?"

"Yeah! I am."

"Because you're suicidal?" the question is coated with sarcasm but seems to be filled with concern.

"Don't say that word!"

"Well dying sucks. As it happens I did it very slowly."

My slow mind takes a minute to compute this thought.

"You're…You're DEAD!?"

"It appears so. And you're alive."

"Yeah," I mutter, "That's sure how it looks, isn't it?"

"What do you want from me? A fucking cheerleading squad?"

"I don't need cheerleaders! I don't even know why I'm here!"

"Spirits can be helpful sometimes, I suppose," he says quietly.

"You're trying to convince me to not die? It's a battle with myself."

I don't know exactly where these words are coming from. I didn't even think they were true.

"Sure. Not dying is good. I'm glad I'm away though."

"You think I'll be glad?"

"Maybe, at first. But I left behind a family that I love very much. And I don't think I'll ever stand to talk to them… So-"

"My family's not worth two shits," I confess.

"Then what do you live for?" he asks.

"I…I… I don't know!" I confess in a scream, "I don't know! I don't know why I'm still living and you aren't!"

"I died protecting my family," he confesses, "And I could've lived but I lost the will. And I gave up the fight trying to keep them safe."

Those luminescent eyes look down to the bottomless pit below and now I see nothing of Sylvester at all.

"What do I do?" I finally ask quietly. "I've always been a dark character… I've always been sad to live. But I haven't ever thought about dying. Not until now… What does it mean?"

"I wouldn't know," Sylvester confesses. "I've always been content."

"Well I'm not."

"I can see that. But don't get ahead of yourself." His eyes flicker with a tricky glint.

"What's that even supposed to mean!?"

"It means don't do anything stupid. And if you do I'll whoop you."

"What classifies as stupid?"

"You're an inquisitive one, aren't you?"

"I tend to be," I roll my eyes.

"Well I think it's very cunning. So think about what you do. Don't regret it later."

"I have to die." It comes out of my mouth as a whisper that makes me jump back slightly. Sylvester squeezes my hands and looks concerned.

I wake up and roll out of my bed, startled, with a shout, "I HAVE TO DIE!"

"Shut up over there!" my Mom screams, "You little shit!" Then she slams the door to her bedroom shut.

The whole dream reflects in front of me and I don't know what to do. So I sit in the corner of my room and cry. Not an uncommon thing of me to do, true, but today it means so much more than it ever has.

I never admitted that I was broken before. Not out loud to anyone, but especially not to myself. And now I can see that I really am broken. That I want to love but I'll really never be able to because I feel like I'm broken beyond repair. After all, how can you give love if you've never received it? And who would I even want to love around here, anyways? There isn't anyone.

_I have to die. I have to die. I have to die. I have to die._

I bury my face in my knees. Even though I feel like I got a long sleep that night, I'm exhausted.

Maybe it won't hurt to doze off for a little while…

I wake up to screaming. The screaming is a mixture of my parents' and my sister Santana's.

I rub my eyes and look around, too tired and lazy to stand up.

They're happy screams. Because my parents adore Santana.

"I'M GOING TO BE A HEAD GAMEMAKER!" Santana squeals so loud my eardrums hurt from upstairs.

"SANTANA, MY PRECIOUS!" Mom says, tears in her voice, "We are SO proud of you!"

I listen to them, all screaming and happy. And I'm hurt once again.

_I have to die. _

And this time I mean it.

So I throw on a hoody and jeans (as always) and climb up the ladder to the attic.

* * *

And that's where I am now. Sitting on a ledge out the attic window, looking out on the city.

We have a great view of the main Capitol city from our house. The cars below look pretty small to me. The sight doesn't make me flinch like it should. In fact I think it's interesting to look at.

The autumn wind nips at my nose and I shiver ever-so-slightly.

The nerves are still jumping around in my stomach, and therefore, I'm sitting on the ledge for now.

It doesn't matter to me that I'll be dead before I can think about it… I don't want to die scared. I want to die at peace. So I'm sitting up here until I can feel peaceful.

The brisk autumn day certainly helps. Autumn is my favorite time of year because a hoody and jeans is perfect clothing. And there's nothing more fun than stepping on withered away leaves.

The cityscape looks like a photograph. A painting. The trees are all perfectly pigmented: reds, oranges, yellows… They all help to calm me down.

I look up at the sky, which is currently the perfect shade of autumn blue that only comes for three or four months in a year. Brisk is a good word for it.

And the weather makes me calm. I take a look down at my old converse and then focus on the cement below. And I see a group of people. They're talking excitedly but I don't care to make out what they're saying.

More people start to wander around until there's a small crowd down there, all waiting for me to do something. I know it.

Santana runs outside and looks up. That stupid smirk of hers is wiped right off upon seeing me up here. My parents look up in shock and point like it's a surprise that I'm up here.

"Ike!"

Dear Lord, Santana has a loud voice.

Everyone's waiting. So I keep them in suspense a little longer by focusing an eye on the birds on our roof. They're big, black, majestic birds that you wouldn't wanna fight for an ear of corn.

When I look back down I see the flashes of cameras and hear a helicopter coming near.

And with that I know it's time.

So I take a deep breath, shut my eyes tightly for just one second before looking up again. Then, without thinking, I jump.

* * *

**FATE: **

_Ike succeeds in his quest to die from the suicidal jump. His parents were glad of this but his sister Santana didn't digest it well. She goes on to become the Co-Head Gamemaker for the 81st Hunger Games, and takes out the anger of losing her brother on everyone around her: especially the tributes. Ike was 15 when he died and it made headlines for at least a week after, gaining fame for Santana and her family before the new Co-Head was even introduced._


	15. Jack&Tarrick: FLUFFY STUFF

_**A/N: After so much sadness, I decided to do a happy chappie! So tada! JARRICK FLUFFFFFFFF! Also, I finally reveal a huge spoiler for all my stories so if you're reading 81: the Ultimate Show, you're in for a shocker. Also, I know the ages are warped in Part Two, but oh well XD**_

~Part One: Stars: Setting: 2 weeks after the rebellion's end, in the Capitol~

~Song: In Heaven's Air by Samuel R. Hazo~

I climb up on a brick wall and sit there. Jack hops up and sits beside me just as the sun finishes setting.

We sit in the ruins of the Capitol, which was once so beautiful but is now a combination of ashes and fragments.

The war was officially over two weeks ago, and I finally got to tell him how I felt. And he told me that he loves me, too.

But now the death becomes real.

I look at the stars and tears well up in my eyes.

"You Ok?" Jack looks over at me.

"Fine," I mutter, but my voice cracks and he knows that I'm not fine.

"Tarrick, you can talk to me. You know that."

It was always my goal to protect Jack. He's younger, sweeter, more innocent than me. Even when he was in love with someone else… I still wanted to protect him with everything.

And it feels so weird… To let him see me cry… But when I look over, tears dot his cheeks, too.

He leans against me and I hesitate.

I know that Jack's had a pretty rocky past, so I try not to go too fast for him. I don't want to scare him with flashbacks. So I'm going step by step with him.

I wrap an arm around him gently and he curls up into my stomach, burying his face in my shirt.

"You're missing them, too?" I ask gently. He nods.

So many people died.

"I… I never got to know Grayson…" his green eyes look up at me, "Was he good?"

A tear tickles my cheek as it rolls down.

"He was good," I whisper, "He was very good. But he never got to show us who he was."

And he never will.

"You really loved him, didn't you?" Jack asks, voice shaking with tears.

I nod sadly, "Yeah. Yeah, I did. Even when Jane would tell him to hate me… Yeah, I cared about him through all of it. But I didn't know it until he died."

"You think he's happy?"

Now I bury my head in the back of his shoulder.

"That's one way to think about it," I whisper.

Finally I can't stand to talk anymore and keep my head buried. Jack slings an arm around my waist.

And both of us prepare for what's coming next. Jack bites his lip, curling up into a ball on my lap. I wrap my arms around him and hold him tightly.

He buries his head and sobs. There's nothing I can do to help him.

He hiccups with sobs. There hasn't been a night since that he hasn't.

"Jack…" I whisper, but he's too far gone to pay attention.

I take his chin in my finger and guide his head up. His whole face is red, cheeks drenched with tears, eyes already bloodshot. He looks at me for a second.

"This can't be easy… I... I know it can't be easy… That it'll never be easy. But you can't keep letting it tear you apart. Because there are people here that love you and we hate to see you so broken. And she wouldn't want you to be sad. She loves you and she wants you to be happy. To carry on without her."

"But it's so hard," he squeaks, "To go every day without seeing her face…" He reaches into his pocket. I already know why.

He plays with her last memory in his fingers.

"You're right," he whispers as he trembles in my arms, "You're exactly right… And it hurts so badly… But…I have to be happy. Because I know that's exactly what Emma would want."

Upon saying the name of his twin he collapses into my arms again and buries his face in my neck. I bury my face in his neck, too. Tears spill from my eyes upon the memory of Grayson and just upon seeing my boyfriend so broken.

After a while I think he's all dried out and he unburies himself, not moving from my lap.

Then I say the thoughts that have been crowding my mind since we first met.

"If you're still hung up on Marx, it's fine. You don't have to feel obligated to love me…"

"You think I'm still in love with Marx?!" he asks, turning to look at me, "You really think I'm still in love with her?!" he almost sounds hurt.

"I'm saying that if you are then it's fine with me… For real."

"I'm not. Tarrick, I promise that I'm 110% yours."

I take another look up at the stars, "But she was your everything… In your eyes… She's next to perfect." I whisper sadly.

He shifts on my lap, putting a leg on either side of my waist and wrapping his arms around my neck.

"But Tarrick…" he rests his forehead against mine, "You _are _perfect."

* * *

~Part Two: Sweet: Setting: three years after rebellion's end, Hourner orphanage~

~Song: Here's to Us (Glee Cast Version)~

"Hey kids!" Jack says. The kids in the orphanage look up, curious as to why their orphanage father had awakened them so early in the morning.

Victoria lazily sucks her thumb but her brother Cyrus glances nervously at Jack. He gestures them over to the play area and sits on the floor there. The kids soon crowd in with him.

He glances at the door. "I swear if he comes in I will personally stab him," Jack mutters to himself. Tarrick loves to come help him at the orphanage, and it turns out that he's great with the kids. But today Jack doesn't want him anywhere near… Not now…

"What's going on?" Cyrus asks, concerned.

Jack blinks, looking over at his children. "I got you all up so early to talk to you about something very important. But it's also very secret. So you have to promise not to tell ANYONE."

All of the children nod. Then Jack reaches into his pocket and pulls out a little black box. "Today, well, tonight…" He swallows nervously, "I'm going to propose to Tarrick."

The older kids perk up at the words, some of the toddlers look confused.

"What's a'pose?" asks Flora.

Jack nervously lets out a laugh, "It means I'm going to ask him to marry me."

He waits anxiously for a reaction, but the kids all slowly start to grin. He gets tackled by toddlers and laughs. Yes, this is just what he needed.

"But you can't tell him. It'll ruin the surprise," he says with a smile. After 27 pinky promises, he jumps up, remembering the cupcakes that he put in the oven. He hurriedly runs over to the kitchen and grabs an oven mitt, throwing open the door and sweeping the tin out.

The tops of the cupcakes are slightly brown but they otherwise resemble the red velvet cupcakes he knows his boyfriend is crazy about.

Jack breathes a sigh of relief, pulling up the recipe in his cookbook for cream cheese icing.

But first he opens his video camera and puts it on the oven.

Once he hears the familiar beep of the recording, he grins. "Hi Tarrick!" he says, zooming out from the oven, "This is my proposing vlog, part 5. Ok, so I made the cupcakes without burning the kitchen down!" he says with a laugh, filming the cupcakes. "And now it's time for me to make the icing!" He zooms in on the recipe. "I printed it from the Internet so hopefully it tastes good. Oh man, I need to get moving if I want to surprise you!" he shuts off his camcorder and drops it, so it dangles from his neck as always.

Then he gets to work making icing. In the process, Jack manages to get the sugar everywhere: including on himself, but he works until the icing actually looks like icing.

Then he flips his camera on again.

"Hi Tarrick!" he says cheerily, "This is my proposing vlog, part 6. So here's the icing in it's beautiful cream cheese bowl. And here's the counter," he says, zooming out on the sugar-covered table. "And here's the fiancé-to-be." He turns the camera on himself and runs it up and down his body, "Covered in sugar, of course. Ok, well, I have to pick up this mess before you get here so I guess I'd better get started…" he smiles, switching off the camera and cleaning off the top of the counter.

Then he gets to work putting frosting on the cupcakes. Singing a happy song while he works, Jack smears icing on the cupcakes and time seems to fly.

Then he picks up his camera again. "Ok, part 7 of the proposing vlog. Look at those cupcakes! Look how beautiful!" he says proudly, zooming in and out on them.

"But I still have cleaning up to do," he says sheepishly, then proceeds to lick the icing off his free fingers.

"Mmm, it tastes really good!" Jack says, "And I'll admit that I'm both surprised and delighted at the same time. Ok, well, I still have cleaning to do before you get here. Also I have to hide these somewhere where you won't find them…"

He switches off the camera, licking the icing off his other fingers then washing his hands in the sink. Jack, realizing his time crunch, throws all the dishes in his bedroom and takes the cupcakes to a cupboard in the laundry room.

He turns on his camera and says, "Just so you know, Tarrick, I'm hiding the cupcakes in the laundry room. Because God the last time you were in this room." He laughs, "But I love doing your laundry for you, and I hope that you move in here and I can do all your laundry, all the time, always."

Then he switches it off and shuts the cupboard door. Cyrus and his friends help sweep the kitchen floor and Jack looks down at his sugar-coated clothes.

"If he comes, tell him I'm in the shower and keep him out of my bedroom!" Jack says to the kids, jumping in the shower.

While this is happening, Tarrick climbs out of bed around 8 and feels bad that he slept in. Astro jumps and yips at his legs and he pats his dog's head. Astro has been a lot better with the kids so Tarrick decides to let him tag along. Tarrick runs around and manages to get ready in 10 minutes. As always, his dark red hair sticks up in every direction and he covers it with his trademark white Stetson, and as always, he trips on Astro twice as he runs around his little apartment. And, once again, Tarrick runs out the door without bothering to shave.

Astro stays at his feet, rubbing up against Tarrick's legs and getting hair on his jeans.

Tarrick laughs at this, challenging the Australian Shepherd to a race down the sidewalk when Hourner orphanage comes into view.

"He's coming!" Jay says when the strong boy comes into view, "Everyone act natural!"

The kids all pick board games and soon all forget to grin giddily when the unknowing District 10 boy bursts through the door, panting slightly.

"Honeys, I'm home- where's Jack?" he asks, upon seeing the lack of ginger hair in the room.

"In the shower!" Victoria pipes up.

Astro, slightly disappointed upon not seeing Jack, instead walks over to Cyrus, who scratches the dog behind the ears.

"Alright. Did you guys already eat, then?"

The kids nod.

"Good! Wow, he must've been up early…" Tarrick says with a sigh.

Jay and Cyrus plop back on the floor and the kids get back to their games. Tarrick smiles, walking towards the bedroom.

"WAIT!" Magenta says, "Don't go back there!"

Tarrick looks down at her, confused.

"You're not's 'llowed!"

"Says who?" he raises an eyebrow.

Magenta looks around nervously.

Gunner looks over, then screams, "OWIE! I GOTS A OWIE!"

Magenta holds back a smile as Tarrick files over to Gunner.

Astro, uninterested by this and interested in the smell of frosting, wanders to Jack's bedroom and pushes the door open. He hops on Jack's bed and starts licking the icing from the bowl.

Gunner screams like he's in pain.

"You don't look like you have an owie," Tarrick says, but Gunner wraps his arms around the man's neck anyways.

Tarrick smiles and picks up the little boy.

Gunner squeals happily and rests his head on the ginger's shoulder.

Tarrick smiles, bouncing the little boy up and down. He thinks of Grayson and pain stabs at his heart for a brief second before he sees his boyfriend poke his head out the doorway.

Astro follows, feeling slightly queasy from eating icing and lying down on the floor to sleep.

Jack watches him wearily.

"There he is!" Tarrick says with a smile, putting Gunner back on the ground to play with his friends.

Jack comes out of the bedroom to give his boyfriend a kiss on the cheek in greeting. Then he smiles, "Forgot to shave again?"

"Come on. You could never kiss a clean-shaven face again and you know it."

"I couldn't kiss any face again," Jack comments, giving him a peck on the lips before heading to the play area to play a game of Chutes and Ladders with Jay and Gunner.

Tarrick smiles, "Was someone cooking this morning? Something smells good."

Jack swallows hard, "Nope!" he lies.

"You Ok?" Tarrick asks, sitting Magenta on his lap.

"Fine," Jack says.

"Alright," but older boy sounds unsure.

The afternoon comes and soon the evening.

Jack's nerves are out of control by now. The kids all take their dinners to the play area and eat quietly, eavesdropping.

Jack dims the lights, lights a candle, and serves roast beef and noodles for dinner.

"Jack," Tarrick asks, slightly nervous, "What is this?"

"Tar, you have done so much for me. So I want to do something special for you, for once."

"Oh…" the stronger boy takes on a whole new and very delicate disposition, cheeks and ears turning bright red. He pulls the hat down over his blushing face and Jack laughs, "Well, come on now! Take a seat!"

The older boy, still bright red, gently sits in a chair.

"Let me see those eyes?" Jack asks, amused at his boyfriend's suddenly timid nature.

Tarrick shyly looks up. Jack laughs, "You're so used to spoiling me. But now I'm spoiling you! And you don't even get to lift a finger!" Jack teases with a loud laugh.

"You stop that!" Tarrick says, turning even redder.

"Fine," Jack says with a laugh, "As long as you say hi to the Damn Cam!"

"Oh, no," Tarrick groans, "Not the damn cam! You know I hate myself on film!"

Jack laughs, "I know. So just say hi! To my vlog, part 8!" He turns on his camera and zooms in on the smiling face of his boyfriend.

"You're doing another sectioned-one?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah. I am," Jack says.

"What about?"

"You'll see!"

"Alright, alright…"

"Now hold on! I'll be right back!" Jack shouts, running to the laundry room and grabbing the cupcake tray.

Tarrick thinks about this but his mind is sent elsewhere when he sees the cupcakes.

"You made cupcakes!?" the tall man asks, eyeing the treats hungrily.

"I did!" Jack says with a laugh, putting the tray in front of him and taking one for himself.

"I sure hope these are good," Jack says.

Tarrick takes a huge bite and his green eyes go wide. "Jack… These are… Amazing!"

"Really?"

"So good! I'm absolutely crazy about red velvet cupcakes with cream cheese frosting!"

"I know!" Jack says, laughing, "That's why I made them!"

The darker-haired boy swallows his bite of cupcake before kissing the lighter-haired boy on the lips. "You are amazing," he whispers.

"I know," Jack teases.

Tarrick goes back to eating cupcakes with an ear-to-ear grin on his face. Jack finishes off his cupcake and opens his camera, "Vlog, part 9! Say hi, Tarrick!"

The strong boy swallows another bite of cupcake and waves. Then he slows down his eating to not look like a pig on film.

"Why do you keep filming me?" Tarrick asks suspiciously.

"You're about to find out," Jack says, shutting off and setting down his camera at a good angle on the table.

His green eyes grow to the size of dinner plates.

"Jack. Landon. Hourner. What the hell are you doing?! You're not. You're not. You're not," he spews out, shocked more than anything.

Jack presses the button on his camera and says, "Vlog post number 10." He takes a breath as he gets on a knee and takes Tarrick's hand in his own.

Finally realizing what it is, Tarrick's heart beats hard and fast in his chest. "Oh God, Jack. You're not. You're not… You're not…"

Jack laughs, "Shut up and let me do it!" he grins.

Now both of them are shaking, Jack from nervousness, Tarrick from overwhelming happiness. He puts a hand over his mouth as Jack starts.

"Tarrick… You helped me through. I loved you from the day we met, and you just helped me to discover it. I don't know where I'd be without you. I need you in my life, I need you to be with me and only me for the rest of eternity. I am yours, forever and always. And I want you to be mine-"

"Just ask me already and stop making me cry!" Tarrick screams through his hand, even though tears are already forming in his eyes.

"Fine, fine, fine! Tarrick Tailor-Bates, will you marry me?"

"Yes I'll marry you, idiot!" Tarrick says, yanking him up off his knees by the shirt and pulling Jack on his lap in a kiss.

"He said yes!" Magenta says to the rest of the kids.

Everyone cheers from the other room, causing Jack to break away and both to turn bright red.

"I love you," he whispers, straightening Tarrick's hat.

"I love you, too," Tarrick whispers in his charming deep voice.

Then Jack climbs off his fiancé and slides the ring on his finger.

"Ok, children, you can come in!"

And they all run in and hug both men's legs, including Astro.

Jack grins from ear-to-ear, picking up Victoria and bouncing her up and down.

"And I found some people to look over the orphanage in the evenings and mornings, so we can get an apartment!" he says.

Tarrick nods, "But it'll be hard to leave this place."

"Don't worry," Jack says, "We're going to ease into it. It'll be perfect, I promise."

"You think?" he asks with a grin. Jack nods.

"And, while we're here… Cyrus. Victoria."

The little boy looks up upon hearing his name and his sister looks up nervously.

The two men exchange a look and smile.

Tarrick picks up Victoria, Jack takes Cyrus. "How would you two like to be Hourner-Tailors?"

"You're adopting us!?" Cyrus asks, "For real!? People don't adopt package deals, though!"

"Well we do," Jack says, "And you've been here for so long that we can't stand to see you leave with anyone else but us."

Cyrus wraps his arms around Jack's neck and hugs him tightly. "I love you so much."

"We love you too," Tarrick says, kissing both kids and then his fiancé, "And you will all be mine for the rest of my life."

* * *

~Part Three: Take Me All the Way: Setting: the next night, at Tarrick's apartment~

~Song: Love Somebody by: Maroon 5~

"You can just throw those dishes in the sink," Tarrick says.

I've become way too used to just messing up my boyfriend's… Well, I guess he's my fiancé now… So… My fiancé's house. But every time I try to help, he just swats me away.

We've been dating now for a while. Everyone's been saying it's about time we're engaged.

"So, now what?" I ask.

"Dessert," Tarrick says, shoving a cupcake in my face. My exclamations are muffled by his pressing the pastry to my mouth. I laugh when he finally removes it, licking the chocolate off my lips and grabbing a cupcake from the table, for revenge. I completely cover his face in icing and double over laughing.

Then I snatch the hat from his head, throwing it across the kitchen.

"Fine. That's how you're playing it, eh!?" he asks, opening up a cabinet, "Then we'll have to do it traditionally. Can't have a date without the flower, right!?" he asks, proceeding to pour a whole container of flour on my head.

I blink, staring at him in amazement. Well I didn't think he'd actually do it.

Now it's a good thing I know my way around his kitchen so well. I open up a cabinet and take out the sugar.

"If and when I pour this all over you, will the world explode?"

He rolls his eyes, "Why would it?"

"Because you're already maximum sweet. What if I made you sweeter?"

He rolls his eyes again but grins, shoving me backwards. The flour pile on my head goes everywhere and covers the floor even more than it already was.

I lunge for him, pouring the sugar all over him and laugh.

He laughs, too, "Ok, ok. Now hold on."

He walks to the fridge and I watch cautiously.

He opens a carton and takes out a couple of eggs.

"Close your eyes and mouth," he warns with a laughs, cracking an egg on my forehead, "Because you are just TOO egg-cellent!" He opens it and the cold insides hit the top of my head. I roll my eyes at his joke, shaking the egg off my head and stepping forward. I snatch an egg from his hands.

"You're EGG-cellent, too!" I crack it and pour the contents on his beautiful red hair.

He laughs, throwing a piece of bread at my face, "Real original bun there."

I laugh, "Good bun," I say, throwing it back at him.

"Oh, come on!" he says, still laughing.

"Fine, fine, fine. I mean, coming up with my own awesome food pun? Piece of CAKE!" I say, laughing maniacally and slamming a whole delicious chocolate cake on his face.

He laughs, face even more covered in icing than it already was.

"So cheesy," he says, covering me in spray-able cheese all over the head.

"Gross!" I shout.

He laughs, "You asked for it!"

I shake my head dramatically, sending food everywhere.

Then I throw some flour on him, "Have your flour back!"

"Oh, Jack…" he says with an evilly sweet smile, "You are… Milking… The hell out of that one," he hisses, and the freezing gallon goes right on me. I scream with laughter and shiver.

Then I pick up the spray-able nozzle on the sink and shoot him with freezing water, "WATER YOU DOING TO YOUR FIANCE, TARRICK!?"

He laughs at that one as I grab another can from the fridge, "You are as sweet as a bowl of cream," I tell him, holding the nozzle of the whipped cream can and running it around on his head.

Both of us laugh so hard we get cramps.

"I think this is the most tamed my hair's ever been!" he says.

Then he whirls around and holds a bottle of vegetable oil in his left hand.

"Nooooo!" I scream.

He grins wickedly, backing me into the fridge. My gaze never leaves the food in his hand.

He unscrews the lid, both of us laughing so hard we're red in the face.

"I have two options here," he says when we're both fairly calm again, "I could either pour this all over your head, or…"

"Or?"

"Or one of our trademark make-out sessions," he says with a smile that looks different than I've ever seen before.

"Oooo, I like the second one…"

He laughs and pours the oil all over me.

"Hey!"

"I picked both, of course," he says with a low chuckle and I feel the oil drip down my hair as our lips press together.

As our kiss progresses, it starts to speed up. My heart beats out of my chest as Tarricks strong hands wrap around my waist.

This is something that I've never felt before in my life. All I want is for him to be as close to me as I can manage to be. I find myself stepping off the fridge to lessen the distance between us. Suddenly his strong body pushes me back into the fridge and his whole figure presses mine against it from head to toe.

A new kind of chills runs all over me.

He breaks ever-so-slightly, panting. He keeps me tight against the fridge.

"Hold it," he mumbles against my lips.

"You're not going into protective mature mode, are you?" I mumble back.

"Just for a second," he says, husky voice sending chills through me.

"What?"

"I know what you've been through," he mumbles, "I don't wanna push you into this."

"I trust you more than anyone else in this world," I whisper, hugging closer and nibbling on his ear for a second.

Feeling _him _with chills is intoxicating.

"And we've gone slow, yes, and you know that I'll always appreciate it. But I'm ready for you now."

I grin up at him and he grins back. Finally I jump on him, hugging him tight with legs around his waist and arms around his neck. We both laugh slightly.

His husky whispering voice is one of the sexiest things in the world at the moment, and he whispers in my ear, "Well then… I guess we _butter _take this to the bedroom."

_**A/N: Wow, that first part turned out to be a lot more spoiler-filled and depressing than intended. Oh well, the rest was happy, right? So that kind of counts for something, right? And, yeah, I know, the ending was kind of pushing the T rating but I don't think it was too bad… If it is then I guess I'll change it… *sigh* Ok, back with depressing chapters (hopefully!) sometime soon.**_


	16. Tarrah: We Can't Let Him Die for Nothing

_**A/N: I'm sorry Satin! I'm sorry Jethro and Gabriel! I'm sorry Averi! I'm not sorry yet but I will be next chapter Jesse! I'm sorry Olive! AND I'M SORRY CAM! That is all. **_

**Tarrah's POV**

My name is Tarrah Cooper-Hoffsteader. I live in District Three with my parents, Tanner and Ben, who are both revolution heroes.

I like my life a lot. It's cozy.

We live in District 3 in a big house.

My Dad Tanner Cooper is from District 3. He is sweet and has bright blue eyes. Tanner loves everyone and everything, especially us. He braids Molly's hair every day, and he braids mine, too.

My other Dad is named Benjamin Hoffsteader. We all call him Benny, and he tells us not to but Tanner says that he secretly likes it so that's what we call him. He has olive green eyes and brown hair. He's from District 11.

Our Dads like to hug a lot and they both love each other and us more than life itself. They often tell us revolution stories and love to spend time with us.

Sundays, we spend the afternoon together outside, or sometimes inside, and play games. Monday after school, Benny makes celery sticks with peanut butter for us and we sit at the table and talk. Tuesday, we all eat pizza together in the living room. Wednesday is a busy night. I have my flute lesson, Logan has soccer, Jay has lacrosse, and Molly has gymnastics, but we always get together and watch a TV episode before bed. Thursdays, Jay usually has lots of homework and studying, but Tanner helps Molly and Logan study for spelling tests that they have on Fridays, and we all help Jay with his history and science and me with math.. Fridays, we all come home from school and watch a movie or even just television together. Then we have dinner together and read a story before bed. Saturday is my favorite: game night. We take turns picking a game to play and sit on the living room carpet in front of the fireplace. Yes, our family is quite cozy. Quite cozy indeed.

Our best family friends are the Campbell family. Siren is the oldest. She loves to sing and we love to listen.

Apollo is next. He's funny and cracks a lot of jokes. And he's really nice, and loves to play sports and race with us.

Harmony is the youngest. She's adorable.

And my favorite Campbell is Tenor Campbell. He's the third oldest, 16, and he's adorable. Tenor has shaggy hair and adorable swampy eyes that you giggle when you glance at.

He's besties with my brother Jay, and they do almost everything together.

Tenor loves to tell stories to my sister Molly and me. And we love to listen to them.

The heroes of Greek mythology are only interesting when Tenor's voice tells us about them. Because, let's face it, these things were written hundreds of thousands of years ago. They're REALLY old.

And I don't get to talk to Tenor a lot anymore, but I still love him to death. Molly, too.

Anyways, it's just another Saturday and our family has a game night.

Jay is the oldest of the four kids.

I'm next, then Logan, and Molly is the youngest.

We all sit on the floor of the living room. I lean up against Ben and rest my head on his shoulder. Logan sits on his other side.

Molly sits next to Tanner and grins. Both Dads invite Jay to sit with them but today he sits by himself.

Something is really not right with him. Lately, he and Ten have been fighting. It's sad, because I love Tenor and he hasn't been talking to any of us lately.

"Jay," Dad whispers softly, putting a hand on his shoulder, "You feeling alright?"

"Nah," my older brother confesses, "This whole fight thing is just bothering me…"

"Don't worry," Dad says, olive green eyes looking heavy, "You can talk to him in school on Monday."

"Yeah," Jay says, "Yeah, I will... But… Do you mind if maybe I skip game night tonight?"

"You're sure?" Logan asks, looking over.

Jay nods.

"We can have it on Monday," Tanner whispers softly, soft blue eyes flickering with gentle concern.

Jay smiles as big as he can, before standing up and walking upstairs to his room. Logan soon follows.

"Daddies, is Jay gonna be Ok?" Molly asks, looking from Dad to Dad.

"Jay will be just fine," Tanner says, standing up. Benny stands up with him.

"Tarrah, why don't you and Molly go upstairs and have a tea party?" Benny whispers. I nod, taking Molly's hand. "Come on," I whisper.

I'm 15, Molly's 5, Logan's 11, and Jay is 16.

I take Molly upstairs and sit at a tiny table with her.

"Ok Princess Molly!" I say, trying to sound cheerful, "Would you like some tea?"

She looks at me, brown eyes sparkling, "Will Jay be Ok?" she asks.

"He'll be great," I reassure her, "Just give it time."

My little sister nods but doesn't put the plastic tea-cup to her lips.

"Will Tenny be Ok?"

I smile, "He'll be fine. I promise."

She nods. Then she stands up and walks over to her dresser, opening a drawer.

"Molls?" I whisper, "You Ok?"

She nods, taking out a notepad and a red crayon.

"What're you writing?" I ask, looking over my sister.

She draws a stocky person with a huge smile on.

"Tarrah, will you dot out letters for me so I can write 'em right?"

I smile, "Sure, Molly. What do you want it to say?"

"I love you Tenny. I wanna make 'em really neat."

I smile, drawing dashes for her to trace the letters.

Molly takes the crayon from me with a smile. "Thank you," she says with a grin.

"You're welcome!" I say, patting her head.

She gets to work, tongue at a corner of her mouth, working hard to connect my dashes with amazing diligence.

I smile proudly at my little sister. I love her so much.

She gets done with her drawing and folds it up neatly.

"Now we'll make one for Jay," Molly says, picking a blue crayon from the box and ripping out a new piece of paper.

She draws another figure with a smile and then starts to write chalkily: _I love you Jay. _

I look over her shoulder, watching her construct the letters.

"Those look very nice, Molly," I praise her. She beams, "Thank you, Tarrah!"

"You're welcome!" I laugh. She folds up Jay's note and jumps up. "We have to deliver this!" she says with a smile.

"Ok…" I say, slightly hesitant, but stand up with her.

Together we walk downstairs to Jay's room and slip the note under his door. Then we walk back up together when we hear Tanner talking on the phone.

"Yeah, Theo! That's so cool! Molly is actually in gymnastics now!"

He pauses and then his eyes widen slightly. "Theo…. Theo!?"

He looks around the room, "Theo!? Theo are you Ok?"

Then he jumps up and drops the phone.

"Ben!" he shouts, putting shoes on faster than I've ever seen him, "Ben, come on!"

"Tan, what's wrong?!" he asks, shocked and confused.

"Come on! We have to go! I'll tell you on the way."

Benny's face takes on a sad and confused look as he throws on shoes. Our Dads run out the door together and I look on in shock.

"Where are they going!?" Molly asks, looking scared.

"It's… It's… Probably… It's…" I try to think of something. But we all know that Tanner never gets scared, and he doesn't get sad very easily. And he never NEVER calls Dad Ben, unless something is serious.

"Is everyone gonna be OK?" Molly asks.

I frown, "Yeah. Yeah, they are."

Jay bursts out of his bedroom, "What happened!?"

This scares Molly and she hugs me tightly, burying her face in my side.

"Sorry, sorry," Jay says quickly and quietly, "I shouldn't have spooked you…"

"S'fine," I whisper, hugging Molly.

"What happened!?" Jay asks, seriously, "Tell me what happened."

"Dad was on the phone with Theo… And he jumped up and ran away."

Molly buries her face, tears starting to jump out of her eyes.

My brother swears.

Logan runs downstairs as well, "Guys, is everything Ok!?"

"Fine," Jay says sternly, but I don't think he means it.

"Jay!" I snap at him, "Don't scare them!"

Then I take Molly's hand, "Come on, Molls. We'll all be just fine."

* * *

By the time our Dad's get home, it's about 9:30.

"Kids," Tanner says gently but sadly, "We have to talk." He sniffles.

"What's wrong!?" Jay asks, "What's going on!?"

"It's about your friend," Ben says, with teary eyes, "Tenor."

"WHAT HAPPENED TO TENOR!?" Jay asks, already on the verge of tears himself.

I watch, holding Molly's hand tightly and preparing myself for the worst.

But nothing I could've prepared will prepare to the news that comes out of Ben's mouth. "He's dead."

At first the news is shocking. All four of us just stand there with our mouths hanging open.

Tanner takes Molly and Logan by the hands. "Come on you two," he whispers, "I'll get you both to bed and we can talk."

The three of them walk upstairs, leaving Jay and I with Ben.

"What happened?!" I finally ask loudly. "What happened to Tenor!?"

Ben gets off the chair he was sitting on to kneel on the floor across from us.

"Listen closely."

"What happened to Tenor!?" Jay says, "Tell me what happened!"

Ben whispers, "Guys… I know it's a lot of news to deal with, but we'll survive together." He says it so quietly that we can barely hear, in a deep, quivering voice, "Tarrah…Jay…This afternoon, Tenor committed suicide."

The news hurts. It hurts me in a very deep place. I look over to Jay, who has his face buried in his hands.

I can't take it anymore. I run to the kitchen and take out a knife and take off to my room.

"Tarrah!" Ben screams as I run upstairs.

"TARRAH NO!" Jay screams after me.

I don't care anymore. I slam the door shut and lock it.

I trace a treble clef on the skin of my wrist, lightly enough that I don't open any wounds. The next time, however, I draw it with crimson.

I'm only 15, not old enough to get a tattoo, not old enough to do anything to remember Tenor but this.

I'll have to live with the scars. It's nothing compared to the pain he must've felt in life.

"I'm so sorry, Tenor," I whisper, tears filling my voice, "I should've said something… Done something… To show you how much I love you…"

I shakily transfer the knife to my left hand and slowly trace a bass clef on my other hand. Then I trace over it, blood pouring out of the wound.

"TARRAH PLEASE!" Jay screams, pounding on my door, "PLEASE!"

My wrists gradually ease their stinging. Jay keeps pounding on the door, "PLEASE STOP! TARRAH, PLEASE LET ME IN AND LISTEN TO ME!"

"GO AWAY! I'm done with the knife anyways!" I yell, still crying.

He continues to pound on the door and I finally open the door, placing the knife handle in his palm.

He puts it on the ground and tackles me in a sad hug. I wrap my arms around his neck and hug him tightly, burying my face.

"Tarrah… Listen to me… Please."

I nod into his shoulder, doing everything in my power not to sob.

"Tenor was unhappy. He felt unloved. But it's not your fault. You did everything you could, Tarrah. You didn't see him a lot but when you did you let him know how much he loved him. Tarrah… None of this is your problem." He takes my forearms in his strong hands and looks at the injuries.

"You drew!?" he asks, tears pouring from his eyes.

I nod sadly, "I can't help it, Jay! I feel like shit about this whole thing!" I sob.

"Tarrah, it's not your fault. It's not! It's…It's mine."

"Jay, it's not your fault, either. You were going to talk to him… You loved him and he knew that. It's not your fault, I promise."

He hugs me tightly and doesn't respond. He just cries.

* * *

Tenor's funeral kills me.

I think it kills all of us.

Siren is destroyed.

Harmony sobs.

And Apollo doesn't talk to anyone.

Harmony tackles me, sobbing.

She buries her head in my stomach. I can't find any words to say to her.

Tanner hugs Siren and whispers, "You were so brave. Siren… You're being so so brave."

She sobs loudly.

Ben holds Mrs. Campbell and she buries her head.

Molly runs over to Mr. Campbell and hugs his legs sadly. He picks up my little sister.

Logan walks over to Apollo and whispers to him but Apollo doesn't look up.

Jay walks over and tries to help.

The Hollenbeck-Youngs walk in first, and Siren runs to Peregrine and tackles her. Damon and Mona look sad.

Mona hugs Jay first. We all know the two have been flirting back and forth for months but now she fights tears at seeing him cry.

Damon picks up Molly and puts her on his shoulders.

Molly buries her face in his dirty-blonde hair and sobs. Damon frowns, a tear rolling down his cheek.

The Theramins are all sad. There are three kids, two adults in the family.

Miss Rudi (as she likes to be called) walks over to Theo. "Listen to me, Campbell."

Mr. Campbell tries to focus on her eyes but tears flow down his face.

"Listen. Learn from this. But it's not your fault. _It's not your fault." _ She takes him in a hug.

Mr. Rizzo gets on a knee and whispers, "Apollo… Look up at me, please?"

Jay looks over sadly. All of us have tried to get him to say something to us besides-

"No," Apollo says.

"Apollo?"

"No!" he yells, turning away.

Rizzo stands up sadly.

Tessa hugs Jay and buries her face in his chest. Her dark hair is pulled back in its usual ponytail, but today she has painting on her cheek of a music note and a pen.

Bryant, the youngest Theramin child, walks over to Harmony and wraps his arms around her. She buries her face and I know that there is no way we'll be able to separate them.

Anchor walks over to me.

"Hey kiddo," she whispers.

"Hi," I whisper back, quivering from tears.

"How're you holding up?"

"Awful," I squeak.

She takes me into a hug and I feel a little better.

"Things'll get better from here," she whispers, "That's a guarantee."

"Thanks," I whisper, hugging her.

Mr. and Mrs. Haggerman slowly walk in next, and Santana squeezes the living daylights out of Athena in a hug.

Geno walks over to Apollo and whispers softly to him, but Apollo just keeps shaking his head.

Jett hugs Siren tightly, while Roxanne talks to Jay and Mona.

Jack, Tarrick, and the orphans are the last to come.

Flora's face is red, tears cover her whole face and the moment she steps in she runs to Siren, "I can't believe Tenor's dead!" she sobs, "After all that he's been through…"

"I know," Siren mumbles, "I know…"

Magenta walks in slowly after her and walks over to Apollo, holding out her arms for a hug.

"Hug me!?" she asks.

"No!" Apollo says.

Magenta takes back a hand and slaps him across the face. "Snap outta it!" she screams.

He blinks, seeming to pop back into reality. Then he throws his arms around her.

Gunner throws his arms around my neck and I hug him back sadly.

He runs a hand down my back and whispers, "Tarrah… I am so sorry…"

I cry into his chest.

After a while, he lets go of me, taking both of my hands in his.

"Tarrah…." His gaze slowly floats down to my now-exposed wrists.

"What have you done?!" he whispers to me before pulling me into another hug.

"It's no big deal, really," I whisper. Gunner's lips brush against my ear: I'm not sure if it was purposeful or an accident: but he whispers quietly, "Tarrah… You're beautiful. Please… Take care of yourself."

I keep my eyes focused on the floor, humiliated that he would see me like that.

"Ok," I squeak. After a little while longer of hugging, Gunner lets me go and gives me a nod. Then he meets Harmony with open arms. Bryant stays near.

I'm glad that Ingrid is there. Finally, someone my age that I can talk to.

"Tarrah, I'm so sorry!" she says, running over and hugging me.

I hug Ingrid and cry into her shoulder.

As soon as I let go Flora is there to give me a hug.

"Oh, Tarrah! My little baby!"

She buries her head in the crook of my neck and sobs.

"I wish I could've told Tenor that we all loved him…" she whispers. "He looked so happy 7th period… But I never got to tell him how much I love him! How much we all love him!"

I hug my orphanage friend and cry quietly.

Flora kisses the top of my head sadly and squeaks, hugging Mr. Campbell.

"Hey Tarrah," Antasma whispers.

"Hi Tassie," I whisper with an attempt at a smile that fails miserably.

We exchange a quick hug and I hug Asher and Millicent as well.

I look over to Apollo to see him hugging Anchor and silently crying.

"Hi Tarrah," a voice says from behind.

I whirl around, startled.

"Dexter!" I squeak, "You know I get startled easily!"

He tries a smile and I try to smile back.

"Hey, don't cry…. It'll be Ok, don't-"

But I hug him around the stomach and cry into his chest anyways.

"This's gotta be torturous," he whispers, hugging me back awkward.

"Sure is," I agree sadly.

"Tarrah… You really are being strong. So strong."

"Th-thanks," I stutter with a sniffle.

"You are," he says.

I swipe the glasses off his face and slide them on my face.

"Hey!" he says, blinking and looking around. The huge glasses blur my vision from every which way.

"Very funny," he says, "But I'm gonna need 'em back."

"I know," I sniffle, giving the black glasses back to him.

"Keep fighting," he says, "Keep being strong." I nod. His hazel eyes fly down to my wrist-area and then fly back up to mine.

"And please…"

"Dex, please don't give me that speech. I got it from Gunner and Jay already."

"Fine. I-I won't. But we all love you, Tarrah. So much."

Dexter whispers in my ear, "Especially Gunner. But you didn't hear it from me."

I smiles ever-so-slightly through tears. "Thanks Dex."

He kisses my cheek gently and gives me a nod. "You know we'll be here any time."

I nod, "Yeah, I know."

The service for Tenor is short. Mr. Campbell plays his saxophone and Siren sings.

That's when I finally lose it.

Ben holds a sleeping Molly and has his other arm around Tanner.

Jay and Mona hold hands. Jay keeps an arm around Logan from behind. Cyrus and Victoria comfort them.

Apollo kneels on the floor and buries his head in his knees. Flora kneels next to him, taking his hand and interlocking their fingers.

Peregrine and Dexter stand with Siren and she has her arms wrapped around their shoulders.

Mrs. Campbell stands with Miss Rudi and they both have tears in their eyes.

Magenta kneels on the other side of Apollo and takes his other hand.

I stand by myself with a tissue to my eyes.

Suddenly I feel someone hug me from behind.

Gunner's strong embrace calms me.

It will probably be the saddest thing I ever have to live through.

We all take turns making speeches for Tenor.

I pass on my turn. It just hurts way too much.

Mr. Campbell is the last to make his speech. The man looks awful.

He clears his throat, running an already-soaked hand across his cheeks.

"…I would be lying to you if I said I don't blame myself. I was an awful father. I didn't even realize it until now. Now… When it's too late… Now, when I've caused so much heartbreak to everyone surrounding me. Now I've caused the untimely demise of my very own flesh and blood. I was a terrible father. I realize that. I was too hard on Tenor… So, if you're going to blame anyone-"

His speech is interrupted, "BLAME ME!"

We all look over to Apollo.

Mr. Campbell looks stern and sad.

"Apollo-"

He finally gets off his knees and runs over to the microphone.

"Blame me. It was all my fault. All of it. Th…There are so many things… So many things that I should've done. That I didn't."

"We should've noticed!" Siren says, "We should've known-"

"Guys," Harmony whimpers.

"Blame me!" Jay says, blue eyes filling with tears. "It was all my fault!"

"YOU PEOPLE NEED TO LISTEN TO ME!" Apollo screams, microphone screeching.

"I was a terrible big brother. Awful. Useless. Pointless. Not worth a crap. And no matter what you people say I will never stop blaming myself. I blame myself! And you should all blame me too. Because there are so many things that I should've done that I didn't do. And that I'll never get to do. So stop blaming yourselves! It's pointless! Blame ME!"

Flora looks up, tears pouring out of her blue-gray eyes.

"Apollo, nobody's blaming you!" she whimpers.

"Apollo we all love you and we all know it's not your fault," Siren tries calmly.

"Yes it is!" he says. "So shut up about it! It's all me and I know it! And I want the blame on me!"

"Apollo, stop this!" Mr. Campbell says.

"There's nothing to stop!" he says.

"It's not your fault, Apollo," Roy says, "It's really really not!"

"He's right," Peregrine says.

Gunner rests his chin on the top of my head.

I put my hands on top of his.

"It's all my fault! I let the bullies pick on him… I thought they were just kidding around… I made jokes, I was the one that called him names, I'm the one that sent him into depression, I just know it!"

"Apollo-" I squeak but he tearily glares at me.

"Tenor's dead because of me. Ok!? So just accept it."

"For God's sakes, Apollo," Magenta says, standing up and walking on the stage.

"Magenta, stop-"

But she shoves him away from the microphone anyways.

"Listen. All of you. We all loved Tenor. We all cared about him. But Tenor was always so happy. He tricked us all, but he was really good at what he did. We can't be blaming ourselves. Because we all loved him. And if we could just talk to him one more time, I know we'd all have a crap-ton to say. But… We can't blame ourselves! Guys, it's nobody's fault! No matter who says what. We have to learn from this more than anything. So we need to stop pointing fingers: yes, even at ourselves: and learn a lesson. We can't let Tenor die for nothing. We have to learn from him. That everyone has a place in this world, and _everyone _is loved. Even… Even the only lonely orphan from the Capitol. Who's destined to live in an orphanage for the rest of her life." Tears spill out of her eyes, "No matter who you are… You're loved. So… Don't lose yourself. No matter how much you want to."

She gives a nod and steps down.

All of us applaud and Flora greets her with a hug.

Apollo steps down as well and sits back on the ground, crying into his knees.

She stands with Jack and Tarrick as Theo plays the last song to conclude the service.

All of us sing along softly and Gunner sways me back and forth. Magenta stays with Jack and Roy, hiding her face to disguise the tears.

"Amazing grace,

How sweet, The sound,

That saved, a wretch,

Like me…

I once… Was lost…

But now… I'm found…

Was blind, but now…

I see."


End file.
